#i mean. everyone’s pretty upset. but like. it’s my dog and somehow I’m the one who’s doing the best

[iloveyoumorethansoup]

If I’m offline for a little bit that is bc my dog is having some health issues

#u know ur online a little too much when u say hey guys don’t worry about me if I’m offline for a few days #he’s pretty old he’s going on 17 years this fall #he’s got some sort of old dog kidney disease #so if he gets better he’ll be better within a few days. and if not then he probably won’t #thankfully I am not in touch with my emotions ever so I can just take care of him without looming grief #which is good considering I was taking care of vet things with my mother and she was a mess. someone had to be put together I suppose #i mean. everyone’s pretty upset. but like. it’s my dog and somehow I’m the one who’s doing the best #i did my emotional control training in my youth I’m so good at it #i can make myself feel fine about anything with enough work. I’m trained #something something miserable when I was young so I have my own home remedy where I simply stop being sad #also. fun fact. if I make myself stop being upset the back of my throat really really hurts #like. u know how u feel when u get choked up? it’s similar to that but like. painful #but! physical pain is better than emotional pain and one pain medication exists for #this is not meant to be a post that makes u worry about me all things considered I’m doing quite well #also I think it’s really funny I’m out here like might go offline😔 #like fundamentally my best emotional work is done online right here and it’s probably gonna continue that way #I’m not a person who can just. go offline. i so deeply have to be like omg here is what is new #soup talks

[theoreosisters]

That Time Oreo Escaped

Fun fact! Dolphins are pretty smart. According to my good friend Google, dolphins are believed to be the smartest creature on the planet, second to humans. They are capable of complex problem solving and understanding abstract situations. Man, a pet dolphin would be great when I’m interested in a guy. Especially if his name starts with the letter ‘J’. Somehow all guys I know with a ‘J’ name are complex and abstract. (For some of you I mean that as a complete compliment. For others.... Well...I don’t.)

But back to our dolphin fun fact. What can be deduced from it? Humans are smart, dolphins are smart,... and Google did not mention Oreo on that list. Not that Oreo isn’t intelligent. However, Oreo seems to believe two things are fundamental facts in life: #1. That she is #1 and a princess who is to be awed and adored at all times and #2. the Oreo Sisters (not including Ali of course) are peasants that she tolerably tolerates and gives the grand courtesy of gracing her presence upon even though she feels it’s far beneath her to do so. She even has a pink fluffy castle bed. Princess Oreo gets very upset when any of us “peasants” have the “apparent” audacity to walk past it on our way to the laundry room.

I get that you might be thinking that I’m exaggerating or I must just not be a dog person or I’m the one with the issues, but do not be misled!... that’s what Oreo wants you to think. I need to describe Oreo’s princess syndrome because it sets the stage for this story.

So, ‘The Time Oreo Escaped’. Okay to call it an escape, implies that Oreo was being held captive and managed to free herself from captivity. Whereas I like to think of it that every time we leave the house, we’re the ones escaping captivity.

Ding-dong. Take-out has arrived! Pop down the stairs to meet the delivery guy, tap card to pay, oh funny that dog across the street looks like Oreo... wait! OREO!!!

Considering that Oreo is not a dolphin, I can’t imagine that she figured out how to press the button that unlocks and opens our door. In the excitement of take-out dumplings arriving, we had not fully closed the door behind us.

My mom used to say, “It’s only a joke if everyone is laughing.” Meaning don’t make jokes or play jokes at the expense of someone’s dignity. Once again, Oreo plays by different rules.

It amused Oreo to see us chasing after her. You could see it in her eyes as she threw glances back at us. After running two blocks and passing enough onlookers that went “Aww cutie” to her while watching us trail behind her to sufficiently embarrass us, Oreo took a turn into a dead-end alley where Ella was able to pick her up.

Oreo never had any intention of “running away.” She had had her merriment, was now tired and desired to be carried all the way home.

“First of all, don’t stroke me as you walk, you have dumpling oil on your hands. And secondly, when we get home, I shall be fed at 5pm on the dot or you will thereupon promptly be bit-ith. After I have “entertained” everyone with my noisy food dispenser toy, you may go back to whatever useless less important thing you were doing previously.”

#korean #life in korea #shibadog #princess

[screechthemighty]

More notes! Please be aware that I could not follow a SINGLE damn fight scene in this manga, especially since I was reading it on a time crunch. This is going to be a recurring thing going forward. It's not Nightow's fault, I can't follow comic fight scenes for shit.

TriMax Notes: Vol. 5

TriMax #5.1: The City, and then the Banquet of the Dogs

Oh shit July Flashbacks!!!

OH. COUNT REVENANT. CONRAD!!! Vash was accused of murdering him!

They were…nice…to him…sobs???

Vash thinking of Meryl and pushing on…sobs…

Still unclear as to who zipped off Zazi’s arm but! Moving on.

TriMax #5.2: [Forgot To Write The Chapter Title LOL]

So…the Gauntlet had his…family? Loved one??

OH it was Gauntlet [who ripped off Zazie’s arm] so Zazie would stay out of it [Note: Seriously I couldn’t follow the action in this part at all]

…WOLFWOOD’S BEEN BLINDED THIS WHOLE TIME???? [Note: See previous bullet point lmao]

“Your only gift is the blessing of the gods of battle, yet you press on, inch by inch, you devil.” -Midvalley, about WW

“Found you, Player” *twirls hair* Soooooo there’s this undertaker

TriMax #5.3: Loss

“Even with your unseeing eyes…instinctively shielding her…how very intriguing!” THAT’S MY MAN

THEY WERE EXPERIMENTING I mean TBH this is just. Slightly less upsetting than TriSTamp now that I think about it.” [Note: I realized like halfway through writing the sentence that experimenting on Vash is just par for the course with Knives's bullshit]

“It’s okay. Just resonate with mine” what the FUCK [Note: I almost feel like this should be a CW but I don’t know how to phrase it. General Knives creepiness????]

“I hate you, Rem. You were the one who made him like this” YELLS

Grinding Millions Knives into the DIRT [Npote: I underlined dirt so hard it’s basically a solid black bar. I hate that man.]

TriMax #5.4: Villain

Oh he’s accidentally psychically feeding his memories to Gantlet and Meryl OH SHIT

Seems to be done through feather touch

WW pointing a gun at MIlly to try and scare her off and she WON’T GO AAHH

“Don’t talk to me about morals. We’ll both get our lips burned.” Okay Mildvalley that was pretty raw I’ll give you that

NO GO AWAY LEGATO

Wow tumblr wasn’t kidding he did not HESITATE to put Midvalley down when he tried to leave again [Note: He was probably looking for an excuse at this point tbh]

TriMax #5.5: Death Deal

OH HELL YES BIBLICALLY ACCURATE VASH

Oh hi New Body Zazie

OH…Legato has both Gauntlet and angle!Vash frozen and somehow his brain hasn’t popped??

This is THE most bonkers Mexican standoff

“Who’s going to play the next card?” IT’S MERYL STRYFE WITH THE STEEL DERRINGER!!!!

Legato you got shot in the face STOP TALKING

“If you cannot even be a pawn, then you die here, too!” -Legato

AND USING MIDVALLEY’S CORPSE TO SHOOT THEM LIKE!!!

Okay damn yeah good timing Elendira he was definitely about to angel arm blast EVERYONE

TriMax #5.6: Let Us Walk the Path to Redemption

“If I save one life, will it be as though I was born alone? Will that life be a good one?” (Vash) YELLS

“All that pent-up energy [is] looking for a way out” So yeah exactly like July in TriStamp

“He saved me. I’m as wicked as ever today. I was about to destroy that which he holds most dear” (Legato) There is. SO much to unpack in those 3 sentences

“The name I have tried to forget…the mistake I have tried to seal away…that which cannot be undone…I must…go on…” (Vash) saves this for the time travel AU…

“I don’t know! How can I know?! But [...] all those lives I extinguished…they were so kind…” (Vash) gnawing!!!

Okay yeah Legato is DEAD SET on killing Vash, and also was being carried by his…weird gimp suit servant until Elendira set in [Note: Again I have questions but I’m not sure I’ll like the answers]

“You…live and suffer. I won’t kill you. I’ll let you go on living, spitting up blood day by day in this shitty world” (Gauntlet) Oof

Vash burying the bodies and then bowing “incorrectly” so he can put more feeling into it ogghh!!!

AND THEN DRAGGING WW TO HELP FIX THE TOWN AAAA

#screech reads trimax

[patt-writes-stuff]

Beach Days with The Genshin Characters!

Wc: 1.7k+

Type: Headcanons

CW: umm nothing except mentions of alcohol and maybe people being creeps? (None of the chars or you tho it’s very brief)

A/N: HI IM BACK FROM THE DEAD! These were supposed to be a lot shorter but I got too excited. If you by any chance wanna see some for your fav character lmk! I know it says request are closed in my bio but since it’s just hcs it’s a lot less (and I really enjoyed writing these so ajdhdhdk)

🔥Diluc:

This man cannot swim. Tell me otherwise, I dare you.

Kaeya tried to jokingly push him off a lil diving cliff area when they were kids.

He almost drowned. Kaeya was in a lot of trouble.

So, good luck getting this man to actually get in the water. The most he’ll do is sit on the shore where it’s very shallow.

He usually prefers to just stay under an umbrella on the sand and keep an eye on you.

Calls you every two hours in advance and helps you reapply sunscreen.

He’s very pale so I feel like he burns pretty easily, meaning he needs to reapply super frequently otherwise he will become a tomato. He brings like three bottles of the good shit. Tch, rich boy.

If you ask him to build a sandcastle, he will pretend to be annoyed but do it anyways. Ends up finding it kind of enjoyable.

He has the maids prepare a nice picnic basket for the two of you!! It’s got all your favorite foods plus grape juice cuz y’know.

If any creepy peeps approach you, don’t worry. He brought his vision and his claymore.

Of course, he won’t have to resort to such violent lengths. Everyone in Mondstadt knows who Diluc is and they probably know you’re his s/o, so they’re usually smart enough to mind their own business.

If they don’t, don’t worry. Diluc’s glare is more than enough to scare them away.

All in all I definitely recommend a beach day with him! I’ll give it a solid 8/10 (-2 for not wearing floaties and getting in the water with you or letting you teach him how to swim.

🖌Albedo:

You guys definitely 100% take Klee out with you on a beach day.

You guys bring snacks, beach toys like buckets and shovels for optimal sandcastle building, a picnic blanket, etc.

Jean definitely packs a lot more stuff for you guys to take with you than you actually need.

It’s only cuz she’s worried for Klee and is nervous about not being able to go with you guys though! It’s very sweet really.

Klee tries to bomb the fish and cause havoc at the beach 😭

I think Albedo is a good swimmer and gets in with you and Klee so that he can help her (which is very cute omfg)

He’s set total workaholic, as we know, so it took a lot of convincing to get him to put down his experiments and accompany you to the beach (however, he’s particularly weak to yours and klee’s puppy dog eyes so he caved eventually)

Though, looking at you and Klee happily building sandcastles and decorating them with pretty seashells of all shapes and colors, he can’t really find it in himself to complain.

He, of course, takes this opportunity to take out his sketchbook and draw the waves, seagulls, you… Of course he won’t let you see the sketch book no sir. He’s a bit embarrassed to be honest, but an artist such as himself recognizes beauty when he sees it so he simply had to draw you. (God I love him so much)

If a creepy person approaches you,- well don’t worry. The sight of a small arsonist child blowing up fish is enough to scare them away 🥰

At the end of the day, all three of you are all ticketed out. Albedo has to carry Klee back to Mondstadt because the poor baby fell asleep the moment you started drying her hair with the beach towel. You’re, of course, carrying back Dodoco and your bags. (You also manage to sneak a peak at Albedo’s sketchbook and find some very pretty drawings of you and Klee with your sandcastle)

At the end of the day, you guys tuck Klee in and read her a bedtime story (she woke up and insisted). Afterwards Albedo takes you back home and thanks you for coming with you and Klee (which you ofc say wasn’t a problem because how could you not???)

All in all? I’ll give it a solid 10/10. You’ve got tasty food, fun times, your boyfriend and his cute kid adoptive sister (yes I am very biased idc)

🦋Xiao:

I think it would take a lot of convincing to get Xiao to go out on a beach date with you.

He’ll probably see it as a distraction getting in the way of his slaying of monsters and demons.

However, he also worships the grounds you walk on (hehe, simp XD), so I don’t think it’ll take that much convincing on your part (especially because it’s is self appointed duty to keep you safe so if you insist on going with or without him, he supposes he’ll have to go)

Is definitely a bit tense at first. He doesn’t know how to let loose and chill so while you’re sun tanning on a beach chair he’s like 🧍‍♂️ahdgshjsjd

Eventually calms down a bit though! You get him to relax and eat some almond tofu you brought along with you. It definitely gets him to perk up.

I don’t think he would mind getting into the water but I do think he’d rather walk along the shore and collect pretty seashells and sea glass.

He later gives the ones he deems pretties to you (he hands them over to you with a blush on his face and pretends it’s not a big deal and he definitely gets all pouty and grouchy when you coo at how adorable he is)

As for creeps, Xiao is both intimidating and well known in Liyue. No one is brave enough (or, let’s be honest, dumb enough) to approach you with any bad intentions.

Sure, Xiao has sworn never to harm a human/citizen of Liyue but that doesn’t mean he can’t scare the absolute shit out of them.

I think Xiao would definitely enjoy a beach day 🥺🥺. He’d find it very relaxing to go out with you and just hear the sound of waves and feel the sand under his feet.

He’d definitely hint at wanting to do it again later. Of course, he won’t tell you. No, that’s a foolish mortal activity and he has much better things to do.

Wait no, don't turn around, yes he will go with you next month.

All in all, I give Xiao a 9/10. It’s a very relaxing day (which he deserves 😤). And you get to see a whole new side of him.

💎Ningguang:

OK SO ORIGINALLY I WASN'T GONNA WRITE ONE FOR HER (at least not in this post) BUT THEN I THOUGHT OF LADY NINGGUANG TAKING YOU TO A WHOLE ASS PRIVATE BEACH

She knows you don’t care about how exclusive the beach you go to is (in fact, the fact that you don’t care about where you are or what you do is one of the things that make her fall more and more madly in love with you) but you deserve the best so she’s gonna go all out.

She’s a busy lady so days like this where the two of you get to go somewhere and be together are few and far between.

She knows it’s hard to be in a relationship with someone who is busy 24/7, so she appreciates how you remain by her side despite all hardships. (Y’all are a whole ass power couple istg)

The two of you spend your day relaxing. Sun bathing, drinking piña coladas, maybe taking a dip in the ocean. It’s all very pleasant!

Ningguang doesn’t quite feel like the type of person who would sit in the sand and make sandcastle, however you’re more than welcome to make some yourself. She finds it endearing <3

If you insist on her helping, she’ll eventually comply. She loves you too much to say no. I feel like she’ll either be terrible at it or like a total architect.

Sand is technically like tiny rocks right? So maybe she can use her vision to help her? If that’s the case, she’s making a replica of the Jade chamber out of sand.

If any creepy person comes up to you don’t worry. Ningguang will buy the whole beach and then use her right of admission as owner to permanently ban them from the beach you’re at.

The only downside to a day at the beach with Ningguang might be that there’s a big chance she’ll be called to tend urgent matters, seeing as she is the Tianquan of the Liyue Qixing and all.

If that does happen, she’ll be sure to make it up to you somehow, whether it be rescheduling or taking care of the matter as soon as possible so that the two of you can get back to your day of relaxation and fun.

All in all?? Lady Ningguang will treat you like total royalty and the two of you will have an amazing time! I give her an 11/10 (she would literally buy a whole beach for you to be comfortable I mean c’mon)

🍃Venti:

BEACH DAYS WITH HIM ARE SO FUN!!

Swimming? Yeah, he’d love to! Sunbathing? Sure! He’ll ever conjure up a light breeze for the two of you. Sandcastle building? WELL OF COURSE WHY DO YOU THING HE BROUGHT ALL THESE BUCKETS AND SHOVELS?

No but seriously, he might be the best person out of everyone here to go to the beach with. He’s fun, free spirited, and he’s a traveling bard who’s been alive long enough to know where all the best beaches in Teyvat are. (He also knows a guy- er, well, dragon I suppose- who is willing to fly them to any place).

He’ll play some soft tunes while you doze under the sun.

HE PICKS PRETTY SHELLS AND GIFTS THEM TO YOU!!!

He will bring booze. I’m pretty sure this is a necessity. If you’re a little upset about it, he’ll probably “eheh~” his way out of it. That slick bastard.

If you really insist on him not drinking, he won’t consume much alcohol.

If some creepy person approaches you and tries to ruin you your day of beach time fun, all of their stuff will suddenly be blown away, causing them to scramble back to their spot and (almost embarrassingly) flail around trying to catch everything. What a shame…

At the end of the day, he’d be a little sad to leave. Definitely makes plans about tbe two of you going back soon.

I gotta give him a 10/10 he’s just so fun omg.

#genshin impact fanfiction #genshin impact Diluc x reader #Diluc x reader #diluc #genshin impact albedo x reader #Albedo x reader #Albedo #genshin impact xiao x reader #xiao x reader #Xiao #genshin impact ningguang x reader #ningguang x reader #ninggaung #genshin impact venti x reader #Venti x reader #venti #flavor: diluc #flavor: albedo #flavor: xiao #flavor: ningguang #flavor: venti #patt’s creations

[thefanficmonster]

Let Them Talk

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female) ft. Sykkuno

Warnings: Swearing, Jealousy

Genre: Fluff, a bit of Angst

Summary: We can all agree Among Us is a fun game on its own but what makes it ten times better is playing it with the right company. Y/N could agree 100% Being a streamer herself, she loves playing with the streamer gang that includes her boyfriend and best friend. But, what happens when her boyfriend starts doubting her feelings for him due to her close relationship with her best friend.

Requested by @cheetoscat . Thank you so much for your request! Sorry it took so long to write, I hope the final product is worth the wait. Enjoy! Love, Vy ❤

Y/AU/N - Your Among Us Name

I settle in my gaming chair, adjusting my webcam one last time before joining the Among Us lobby with my friends. 

“Hi everyone!“ I say into the mic, a smile plastering itself on my face. Discord is a magical thing, man. It’s so easy to forget that the people you are talking to aren’t around you or within arm’s reach. You could be separated by miles and miles of land or - in our case - oceans as well. Distance becomes negligible when you hear your friends’ voices, their laughter; when you have a good time together despite being each behind a screen, often times alone.

Well, I’m one of those lucky ones that isn’t alone. No one knows that, though. Everyone thinks I’m a single, self-employed girl that’s straight out of college. And they are 90% right. Only thing is - I’m not single. That would be a shocker in and of itself, but revealing who’s changed my relationship status would be a bomb with a whole new intensity.

Speaking of my significant other who shall remain unnamed - just kidding, it’s Corpse - his form materializes in the doorway of my recording room. I give him a hand signal the camera isn’t able to capture, alerting him of the fact that my mic is on. He replies by blowing me a kiss and walking off down the hall to his recording room where he’ll be stationed for the next three or so hours.

I owe this relationship to my best friend Sykkuno. I’m a pretty new and not very well known on the platform, however, thanks to him I haven’t only obtained a boyfriend, but a following of a little over million subscribers as well. 

It all started with an invitation to fill a spot in the Among Us lobby him and his friends had created. It took him quite a bit to convince me to join, but I eventually caved and agreed. Suddenly, there I was. In a Discord call, in an Among Us lobby with some of the most well-known names on this platform. I’m talking YouTube legends. I was that puppy playing with the big dogs. The newbie tagging along with the big leagues. Or at least that’s how I felt until we all started vibing - talking and teasing each other as though we’ve known each other for years and not minutes.

When I joined the call, Corpse wasn’t present. After everyone else introduced themselves, Sykkuno informed me that we were waiting for Corpse to return. The name sounded really cool to me and I was genuinely very excited to meet this Corpse guy.

And then, out of the blue - no prep, no warning...

“Did you get someone to fill the spot? Oh- Hello, Y/AU/N.“ 

…he started talking and he had me star-struck. Apparently, he also had me a blabbering mess cause I remember blurting out: “Whoa, who’s this guy speaking in bold and underlined at the same time?”

The entire lobby, including Corpse, laughed. Sean, or Jack like they called him most often, answered my question, “That is the voice of God, Y/N. Its source is named Corpse, though.”

Heat spread from the bottom of my neck to the tips of my ears. I was mortified by my own stupidity. I was well aware they couldn’t see me and I was incredibly thankful for that, but I simply could not get myself to open my eyes. “I’m so sorry.” I said through nervous laughter.

“No, no, I like that description. Bold and underlined at the same time, huh?“ His voice sounded even more pleasant when it had that teasing, mischievous note to it. That thought popping up in my head only made things worse for my self-esteem and only made me more embarrassed, causing me to hide my face in my hands. “You sure it’s not in Italics as well?“ 

His question got a weak laugh out of me. “Nope, definitely not. Nothing Italic about it.“

Yes, I don’t even know how some terrible jokes about MS Word fonts got me as far as a romantic relationship, but they did! We’ve been living together for quite some time now, dating for even longer - hiding it just as long. It’s not that we have been actively trying to hide it or something, we just wanted to see how long it would take someone to become sus of us. When we realized no one would notice, we decided that if any rumors about us started, or even fans shipping us, we’d come clean. That hasn’t happened either, so we haven’t had the proper chance to address our relationship and neither of us minds.

At this point, I’m honestly afraid of revealing it to the gaming squad. Sykkuno especially. He’s my best friend, after all. I can see him being hurt by the fact that I kept a secret so big even from him. The last thing I wanna do is hurt my best friend but it’s already too late for that, it’s inevitable.

“Y/N have you looked at Twitter today?“ Rae, another streamer I’ve become close with over the months, says urgently.

Overlooking the tension in her words, I answer: “Nope, haven’t had the time. Why? What’s up?“

Before Rae can say anything else, Sykkuno joins the conversation, his voice somehow even more urgent than Rae’s. “It’s nothing, Y/N. If you see it, just don’t let it bother you, ok?”

Hearing such a tone from Rae isn’t unusual, but hearing it from Sykkuno is completely different and a lot more worrisome. “Well if it has the potential of bothering me it can’t be nothing. What’s going on?”

Just then, my phone dings with two notifications. I check to see they are messages from Rae.

“I sent you screenshots. Sorry, Sykkuno. She has to know in order to address it and defuse it as well. I know better than anyone how fast these rumors can spread, especially if no one reacts to them.“ She says, her tone barely apologetic at all.

I open the screenshots she has sent me and I find myself frozen in shock. Some old pictures of Sykkuno and I have been posted on Twitter by some random user. These pictures have started an entire thread of suspicions surrounding our relationship.

The pictures in question are from a New Year’s Eve party a mutual friend of ours held two years ago. Sure, in the pictures we are a lot closer than what would be considered a platonic proximity. And yes one of the pictures is of me kissing his cheek. Yes we were both a bit tipsy. I acknowledge all those things and yet none of them are concrete reasons for these rumors to have started piling. 

“This is silly.“ I finally say after maybe five minutes of silence on my end. ”This is absolutely ridiculous! And why are people so serious about it as well? Actual, important matters get discussed more nonchalantly than the potential relationship between two online personalities! What is this world we live in?“ I know I shouldn’t let these rumors get to me like this, especially not on camera. Still, I can’t help it. I feel it’s so unfair to Corpse. He has to put up with this as well and it’s by no means easy for him. I’ve been shipped with people from our group in the past and he always took those rumors to heart despite acting like he didn’t care. Neither of us should get worked up, but him getting upset about them creates a domino effect with my emotions - causing me to be hit just as hard as him, in some cases harder.

Rumors of the past aside, this one is the worst by far. Mostly cause even Corpse himself suspected something between Sykkuno and I at the very beginning, when we were still acquaintances, barely crossing into the realm of friends.

I pull up Twitter to look for the whole thread, barely sparing my stream chat a glance in the process. It seems pretty split - those who agree with me and those who think Sykkuno and I make ‘such an adorable couple’. The thread is ridiculously long, and if we take into account that it was only started approximately five hours ago, you can either view it as impressive, amusing or sad. Why sad? Because someone has dedicated so much time and effort into fueling the fire of a weakly supported theory.

I love Sykkuno with all my heart. Everyone knows that - fandom, streamer squad, Corpse and Sykkuno included. I love too much and too platonically to ever even dream of having a romantic connection with him. I thought that was more than obvious, but people are either blind here, or just grasping at straws. One thing’s for certain - they’re stepping on a nerve.

“Hey where’s Corpse? Did he disconnect?” Felix asks, gaining my full attention. My eyes dart to the monitor, searching through the little avatars in a desperate search for the one of my boyfriend. It’s nowhere to be found.

“He just messaged me saying his connection is unstable but he might join us later.“ Rae says, “You guys can invite someone to fill...“

“Bathroom break.“ I interrupt, not waiting for a response before shutting my mic off, putting the ‘BRB‘ graphic on my stream and yanking the headset off. I basically run down the hall to Corpse’s recording room, my heart pounding like a bass drum.

“Corpse?!“ I call out to him, one hand already on the doorknob. When five seconds pass by without a response, I barge in. 

Inside, I find his usual spot on the gaming chair empty and his slumped figure seated on his bed.

“Corpse?“ I try again, watching for even the tiniest change of body language. He remains still as a statue, not bothering to look up at me either. 

His hands are gripping the edge of the mattress, his head hanging low. His eyes are covered by the short curtain of his dark messy curls. I can’t gauge much. Is he angry? Is he sad? Both? How should I approach the situation?

Before I find the answer to any of those questions, I am kneeling in front of him, our height difference eliminated. I gently pry his hands off the mattress and take them in mine, holding them firmly but tenderly. With one hand I reach up to tilt his head so his eyes can meet mine. He complies, his tear-filled brown orbs meeting mine. Those tears have the same effect on me as fifty sharp knives stabbing into my chest. These tears focus their attack straight on my heart, tearing it to pieces.

“Baby....“

He cuts me off, “Why is it always someone else, huh? Do they deem me not worthy of being with you? Do they think you deserve better?” His voice wavers, “Well, they might be right. They are correct and there’s little I can do to prove them wrong. They mean you well, Y/N - pairing you with guys better than me. Those are some loyal fans you’ve got. They only want what’s best for you. And so do I. If ‘best’ is being with someone else then...”

It’s my turn to cut him off. I put an end to his nonsense ramble that’s slowly killing me by pressing my finger against his lips. The sternness of my gaze is beyond me as I get up and walk over to his computer setup. I put on his headset and hop into the call as well as the lobby with his avatar.

“Hey Corpse’s back!” Toast says, “Good to have you back buddy.”

“No, not Corpse.” I say in a casual, nonchalant voice.

“Wait, wha-“ Sean’s voice shows just how confused he is, representing the confusion of the entire lobby actually.

“I know all of you are streaming so this message will be heard by several different audiences so I’m gonna make myself perfectly clear.“ I take a deep breath, “Sykkuno and I aren’t dating. He’s a lovely guy and he deserves to find a girl who will treat him right. That girl isn’t and won’t be me though. I am already treating someone right. Someone who treats me more than right as well. An amazing person. A man-child with a heart of gold. You know him, to a certain extent. He goes by the name of Corpse Husband, but I prefer to call him ‘Love of my life’. Thank you for your time and attention, goodbye.“

I exit the call and turn around to find a stunned Copse looking at me.

“That was meant for you just as much.“ I say with a fake strict attitude, one hand on my hip the other rested on his desk behind me, “Were you listening?“

Within milliseconds, he’s on his feet standing directly in front of me, his lips inches away from mine. “I heard and memorized every word. But...” he pauses for a moment, “I think you have no idea how big of a chaos you just created.”

I smile mischievously, “We’ll worry about that later. For now...” I close the gap between us, connecting our lips in a sweet and passionate kiss. 

@susceptible-but-siriusexual  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @hacker-ghost  @itsminniekat  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis  @waterlilypat  @idontknowwhatthisisfam  @evi-ka  @classyandfabulous00  @redperson58  @lilysdaydreams  @the-fuck-up-of-today  @slashersdream  @chiefwombathoagiepizza  @solowheein @mythicalamphitrite  @axen-gers  @luckygirl144  @nj01

#corpse husband #corpse #husband #corpsehusband #corpse simp #corpse x reader #corpse x y/n #corpse x you #corpse imagines #corpse husband fanfic #corpse husband fanficiton #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband imagine #sykkuno #fanfic #corpse fanfiction #fanfiction #x reader #reader #y/n #reader insert #youtube #among us #request #requests open #corpse music

[strawberrymilkgeorge]

Part Five. "You guys gossip about boys without me?"

warnings: swearing, mentions of emotional abusive/manipulation word count: 3.2k (not including pictures)

behind the screen (irl dream x f!reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist

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Y/n dropped her phone on the bed and slowly rolled off and onto the ground with a soft THUD. She grunted, falling harder than she expected but the dull pain now present in her right shoulder felt deserved somehow. Why did she think she deserved it? Maybe because she was an unconfrontational worm even when the person needed to be confronted because he hurt her more than anyone ever had.

She closed her eyes and wiggled to get comfortable on the thin carpet in her room. Laying on the ground was relaxing to her, forcing her gamer back to straighten to how it was intended. It helped her think, being on the floor. She didn't know why but she didn't question it. Just laid on the floor in acceptance with the dirt and forgotten candy wrappers.

Why didn't she want to respond to Peter? Well, years of being with him and even the months of not being with him had taught her that her ex liked to get his way and liked to take his anger out in her verbally when he didn't.

You could say she's heard some terrible things over very simple inconveniences.

Y/n slowly pattered to her desk and slid on her headphones, finding the discord server Dream said he and George were on. It was a server that a lot of their friends were in, one that Y/n hardly went in since she still hadn't met a lot of them and wasn't super comfortable with talking in it yet.

She scrolled through the various text chats, one for boredom, one for stream questions, one for memes, one for pictures of pets, one for.... discussing the inevitable takeover of rats...? Y/n wasn't sure what that was about but she knew she didn't want to find out. The list went on. She was pretty sure they had made a channel for every possible message someone could ever send.

There were equally as many voice channels, most of them titled with the names of different games for when they only played with each other and didn't stream. Some of them were just random names and she noticed there was one to match the rat takeover text channel. Okay, who was responsible for that?

After what felt like an entire scavenger hunt and with many new questions in her mind, Y/n finally found the voice channel Dream and George were in and clicked on it. It was called memerz-only.

"I'm not a memer, am I allowed in here?" she asked. She hadn't realized how messed up her voice was since she hadn't talked all day.

"Holy shit, Bug, you sound awful."

She scoffed a laugh. "Thanks, Dream. Really means a lot." She did sound pretty scuffed. Her voice was a little scratchy from not talking literally all day.

"You doing okay, Bugsy?" George asked kindly, to which she hummed.

“I just have one quick question...”

“Mhm?”

“This is simple, please don’t elaborate further. There’s a channel on this server... did you guys mean rat as in BadBoyHalo’s dog or rats as in rats?”

Neither of them spoke for a minute before George understood what she was referring to. “Oh! Rats as in rats.”

“Okay, thank you.” 

“Yeah, Quackity—“

“No!” she interupted. “No! I said I don’t wanna know. I really don’t. I’m too afraid to understand.”

“Wha- HA, okay.”

“Good choice, Bugsy. I wish I didn’t know what it’s about. It’s a lot weirder than you’d think.”

“Now that that’s settled,” Dream said with a laugh. “How are you doing, Bug?”

"Neither of you are streaming, right?" she asked, doubling checking the twitch app on her phone to be sure.

"No."

"So I don't have to pretend to be happy and bubbly?"

"No, you can be as mundane as you'd like," Dream said. "We don't mind."

"Yeah, honestly, most of the time when Dream and I are on calls alone it's just us being super boring and hardly talking."

"That's..." she paused to find the right words and decided with, "actually really cute. You guys just enjoy each other's presence."

George scoffed and Dream giggled. "See, even Bug says we're cute, Georgie! Why can you tell me you love me?"

"I'll leave right now if you don't stop," George threatened. "Can we go back to how Bugsy's miserable?"

"I'm not miserable, I just..." she hesitated. She had already told George about why she was having a bad day, but Dream?

She didn't want to tell Karl because she knew he would yell at her. She didn't want to tell Sapnap because she didn't trust him not to tell everyone (on accident, of course). For some reason, it was a different kind of hesitation than with the others that made her not want to tell Dream. She didn't want to tell him because she didn't want to be... embarrassed? Maybe that was it. She thought it would be embarrassing to tell Dream about how her ex-boyfriend treated her like shit and how now he wants to get back together with her. Plus, she knew how everyone else individually would react but Dream was a complete mystery. Maybe he'd yell at her too and say she's stupid for being affected by an ex. Maybe he'd break down crying for some reason? Who knows?

"You don't have to tell us," Dream stated. "Seriously."

"It's embarrassing," she said, tucking her feet beneath her on her seat. As she said the words, she decided they felt right. She was embarrassed. "But George already knows."

Above everyone else, Y/n was okay with telling George about her situation because he and her tended to talk about their troublesome relationships quite often. He always came to her for advice and she to him. They were very similar in their ways of thinking and seemed to have lots of similar dating stories, even if neither of them knew what the hell they were doing. She knew he'd never judge her for thinking unclearly since he tended to do the same.

George hummed, not knowing what to say since she hadn't said much. She could tell he didn't wanna say something that might make Dream more nosey and start hounding her about telling him.

"What hap—never mind. Not my business," Dream said quickly.

"No, I mean, I kinda wanted to talk to George about it again anyway so I guess you can join in on the gossip." Guess my mouth decided for me on this one, she thought.

"Wait, what? You guys gossip about boys without me?"

"Oh my gosh, don't say it like that, Dream," George groaned. "Bugsy and I talk about relationship problems a lot, yes. Not just boys."

"How did I not know this?"

"Because you don't know a lot of things?"

"It's normally George sending screenshots of text conversations with girls and asking me how to let them down gently," Y/n explained with a giggle.

"Or Y/n talking about her asshole ex."

"George! What do you and Karl not get about not calling him names?"

"I'm so lost," Dream mumbled.

Y/n sighed. "Okay, well," she cut herself off with a groan. "It's so embarrassing. Basically, my ex asked me to 'chat' this morning which is code for he wants to get back together—"

"Do you know that for sure?" Dream asked.

"Yeah, we already decided that," George snapped. "Let her finish."

"Sorry."

"So he wants to get back together and I feel stupid for wanting to listen to what he has to say."

"How is that embarrassing?"

"Because he hurt me and I feel like an idiot because him even suggesting that means he doesn't realize how badly he hurt me. It makes me feel like, I don't know, like all the time I spent being upset was for nothing," Y/n explained in a soft voice. "And because his simple, like, five word text made me freak out all day to the point of exhaustion."

"I don't think you should be embarrassed, Bugsy," George offered.

"Have either of you, uh, have you ever considered dating an ex?"

"Didn't you just say he hurt you badly?" Dream asked. "You aren't thinking of getting back with him, are you?"

"No... but I want to stay friends so maybe I should hear him out?"

"Well, I've never gotten back with an ex," he said bluntly. "But to be fair, all my relationships have ended badly or for bad reasons so I've never wanted to see any of them again. Staying friends depends on why you and he broke up, I guess, but..."

"Um, how do I put this..." she trailed off. "He was mean to me."

"Then no? Simple."

"But I've forgiven him and I think he's changed."

"People don't change that easily. Didn't you break up like, a few months ago?" George asked.

"Yeah, but—"

"Honestly I think if a guy was ever mean to you he doesn't deserve any more of your attention," Dream decided. "So, no. Don't even be his friend. Don't listen to a single thing he has to say."

"That's what I told her," George agreed.

"If that were the case, you guys shouldn't be friends," she argued. "You're mean to each other all the time."

"But we know it's a joke," George defended.

"So you're saying if someone is ever purposefully mean to you just once, you drop them forever?"

"Well, no," Dream said. "Not exactly. But it sounds like he was super mean to you since it's why you broke up."

She took a deep breath. She didn't want to go into detail. She was already uncomfortable enough talking about her personal life so much, but she trusted both of them and needed to get it off her chest and they were there and willing to listen. They had already established wanting to listen to her if she wanted to speak and right now, she wanted to speak. Maybe not the full story, but at least some. "He, um, well, the mean things he said, he said because he was trying to get me to see what he thought was the truth about myself."

Both of them were silent for a few moments. "I'm still confused," George admitted.

"Me too... But you don't have to tell us." Dream explained again. She thought it was sweet that they kept reassuring her that.

"I know, but I want to. If it's not too much for you guys..."

"No, go ahead, if you want."

"Uh, he lowkey emotionally manipulated me by telling me I wasn't good enough for anyone and stuff and how he was the only one who could ever love me. The second part he said truly believing that he was being romantic. There are a lot worse and specific things engraved in my brain but that's the gist of what he would tell me. He made me believe that I could never leave him because I could never be loved by anyone else. But he said it all in a way that... he thought he was just... letting me in on something no one else had the guts to tell me."

George gasped. "What?! Bugsy, I'm so sorry, I didn't know it was like that."

"Woah, what the hell? No. Absolutely not. Don't give this guy a second thought. Cut him off for good," Dream said sternly, angry that anyone would say that to anyone, especially to someone like Y/n. "Wait, so, you broke up with him?"

"Yeah. After Karl yelled at me a lot and explained his outside point of view, I finally realized Peter was gaslighting me and emotionally abusing me and stuff so I dumped him. I guess right now I'm just upset by it because I thought we were past this and I was healing and him reaching out affected me again. I'm just emotionally exhausted. Like I said, it hurts to know that he doesn't realize what he did to me."

"I'm really sorry, Bug," Dream said softly. "Gimme his address and I'll punch him for you."

She laughed through her nose. "That's okay. Thanks."

"Yeah, she can go set his house on fire if she wants. She's proven that already."

"Shut up, George," she said with a small laugh.

"Wh......at?" Dream stuttered and George briefly explained.

"Well, Bug, just so you know, in case you weren't aware, you're really cool and sweet and funny and we really like having you around–" Dream started.

"Oh, ugh, no don't do this," she tried to joke but he ignored her as he continued his speech.

"–and you're way too good to be hanging out with either of us, and whatever that asshole was showing you wasn't love. 'No one could love you like he did' because what he was doing was not love, it was abuse." Dream's voice had a certain gentleness to it as he spoke that comforted Y/n and made her believe him. He was blunt but it didn't stab her in the heart like it should have.

If Y/n ever cried, she might have just then from how sweet they were both being. But she didn't because that wasn't something she did. She never cried over anything Peter said, never cried during movies, and didn't cry then. But she did smile very fondly at the Discord screen in front of her.

"Thank you, Dream."

"You know I'm not good with words, but, yeah, what Dream said," George said. "I'm sorry you had to go through that thinking it was normal. Please, please, do not get back together with him and please don't be friends with him."

"He's fine as a friend though."

"Bug. Whether he's fine as a friend doesn't matter, he doesn't deserve to have you as a friend. He treated you like shit, it's okay to be a little cold to him."

She sighed. They were right. "Okay." There was a long pause before, "thanks, guys. Sorry for coming in here and dumping my problems on you—"

"Don't be sorry," George said. "We're the ones that asked you to come in and share. We knew what we signed up for and don't regret it."

"Seriously, Bug, we care about you. You're allowed to, you know, talk about yourself." How did he know that's what she meant by that sentence? The way he could read her mind was heart-warming.

"Also, George knows this but Dream, there's a strict no-telling policy about this kinda thing. Please don't tell anyone."

"I wouldn't even think of it," he promised. "My lips are sealed."

"Good."

A soft animal noise came from one of their mics and Y/n strained her ears to listen. "Was that a cat?"

"Patches has entered the chat," George joked.

Dream chuckled. "Yeah, my cat just jumped on my lap."

"Aw, you have a cat? Lemme see lemme see lemme see!" Y/n begged. "Partly because I would love if we could stop talking about my ex-boyfriend and the other part because I love cats."

"There's pictures of her in the pets channel on Discord—"

"No, no I want a picture of her on your lap. Is she all snuggled up?"

"Yeah, she is."

"PleASE, Dream. I need to see the snuggly cat."

"Fine, fine, if you insist. Give me a second."

A few moments later, she got a DM from Dream and smiled at the picture. His room was dark but the computer screen cast a cold glow over a ball of fur on a lap clad in sweatpants. "Awww, she's so cute."

"Dream, I wanna see it too," George whined. "Send it to the pets channel."

"I'm literally making this my lock screen," Y/n informed, making Dream laugh.

"No, George, it's only for Bug. She's had a bad day so she gets exclusive Patches content."

"What? That is so messed up."

"You know what's messed up, George?" Dream asked. "You never come to me with advice on how to reject girls. We're on the phone for 12 hours a day but you can't talk to me about girls? Do you know how that makes me feel?"

"You'll just make fun of me."

"Why would I? What makes you think that?"

"Because Sapnap and I make fun of you? So obviously you and him would make fun of me?" George said with a laugh.

"....that's fair."

Y/n locked her phone and clicked the home button to admire her new lock screen. "I love her," she whispered.

Dream and George both laughed. "I'm regretting sending you that. You're gonna, like, make a shrine or something."

"What would be wrong with that? She's precious. She deserves a shrine."

"Yeah, Dream, you're the one that feeds her gormet cooked food," George teased with a laugh. "You probably have a shrine."

"That's normal! That's what people feed their cats! That's completely normal!"

"I don't," George countered.

"Then what do you feed your cat?" Dream asked.

"I dunno, normal cat food?"

"Wait! You have a cat too??" Y/n asked. "I feel like we're missing a huge detail and it's that George never told me he had a cat."

"And a dog."

"WHAT? GEORGE! Send me pictures!!!!!"

"I can't right now, it's like three am. They're sleeping. Look in the pets channel."

"You're the worst," she grumbled, clicking and scrolling to find his pets. She saw a lot of cute pictures of other peoples pets along the way but couldn't find George's.

"Hey, do your animals have English accents?" Dream asked, making Y/n laugh.

"What?" George scoffed. "You're so stupid."

"How would that even sound?" Y/n asked.

"Like..." Dream thought, preparing to test out how it would hypothetically sound. "Meow," Dream meowed in his best accent, failing miserable.

"Oh gosh, never do that again," Y/n begged.

Dream laughed into his mic. "That was disgusting. George, I really hope your pets don't have accents."

"They're animals, so probably not. And if they did, it definitely wouldn't sound like whatever that was."

"Oh come on–"

"OH I FOUND THEM." Y/n announced as she found a message from George in the pets channel with the message 'heard we're sharing our pets'. "GEORGE. THEY'RE SO CUTE."

"Are you gonna make them your background picture now?" George asked.

"What, no way! It's Patches!" Dream scoffed.

"Yeah, I'll make George's pets my home screen. Oh, what a good day." As soon as she said it, a metal bowling ball fell to her stomach, reminding her of all the reasons it was, in fact, not a good day.

She got off after a while, feeling the weight of a particular idiot man's stupid simple text catch up with her again. She thanked Dream and George for letting her join, they invited her to always hang out with them, and she went on her way.

Y/n fell on her bed and curled up under the covers as her mind started to wander from Peter to Dream. She was really glad she met him. He was a really good person and he was always so incredibly kind to her. George and Sapnap and Karl were all great friends, so caring and understanding and always looking out for her, but Dream was different and she didn't know why.

Maybe it was because he seemed untouchable still, like he had no reason to hang out around someone like her. But he wasn't untouchable in the celebrity was since he had a large following, because all of her friends did and they didn't seem untouchable. Then what was it? What set him apart from, say, Karl? She trusted Karl with her life and had known him for quite a while. She knew Dream for maybe a few weeks and almost trusted him the same amount.

Why?

She picked her phone up off the bed and pulled up Twitter, deciding to DM Dream since he was already existing in her mind rent-free. Might as well make him pay his rent by bothering him.

*********

PREVIOUS | NEXT

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A/N: EEEEEEEE I hope that all made sense lmaaoooo basically yn ex = gaarrbbaaagggeeeee and ruined her self-worth a lot!! not poggers!!!!!!  THANK U GUYS FOR BEING SO SWEET ALL THE TIME ALL FOR ALL THE POSITIVE FEEDBACK ON ALL THE  CHAPTERS!!! I love seeing you guys make predictions and tell me how aljkDFB chapters make you feel bc same :/

taglist: OPEN (at the time) @hydrate-tion @loraleiix @tinaswagbd @charsdummb @smileyyuta @1ghoste1 @cerberus-hellhound @gaysludge @queestionmark @carnations-red @letsloveimagines @the-fictionwriters-hairdo @boiled-onionrings @a-cryptic @fee-btheweeb @letsloveimagines @erwinss @just-a-stan @axths @kayleigh2703 @furiouspockettoad @sometimeseverythingsucks @powerpuffyn​ @itshaileyn @millavalntyne @automaticcomputerpaper @nikkineeky @fivedicksinatrenchcoat @sprucekot @jabby16 @mae-musicbitch @hungoverhellhound @dreamyteam @kuroo-icedtea @stuffforreferences @menacingaesthetic @sapphic-soot @fangeekkk 

#rpf #real person fiction #dream x reader #dreamwastaken x reader #dream x y/n #dreamwastaken x y/n #mcty x reader #mcyt x y/n #clay x reader #dream smau #dreamwastaken smau #smau #social media fic #dream social media fic #social media au

[rowyn-writes]

A Mother's Love (Dean x Wife!Reader)

Warnings: Language, fluff, major angst, implications of divorce, arguing, Dean being mean to Jack

Pairings: Dean x Wife!Reader

Characters: Dean, Jack, Sam, Reader, Cas (mentioned only)

Word count: 2.7k

You threw your bag down as you entered the bunker, exhausted from your last hunt. This was one of the rare cases where you worked alone.

Sometimes you needed the time to yourself, away from all the men. Sometimes you would go hunting with Jody and Claire, but even then, those two argued like cats and dogs.

"Y/N," Jack smiled as you entered the kitchen. "How was the hunt?"

"It was pretty good, actually." You grinned as you sat across from him. "I was chasing down this werewolf in Tennessee, and it was really strange. He'd kill one person, turn the next, and repeat that cycle."

"That's. . . Weird." He furrowed his eyebrows.

"That's what I said. Well," You continued on with the story of your hunt, watching as Jack's eyes widened in amazement and awe.

"Y/N?" Dean called your name, entering the kitchen. "Hey, sweetheart. I didn't know you were home?"

You stood up, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Sorry, babe. I got sidetracked. I was just telling Jack about my trip." You smiled, looking over at the boy. You were concerned, as the smile fell from his face and he looked away from you and Dean. "You okay, kid?"

"Yeah," He nodded, not meeting your eye. "I'll give you two some space." He mumbled as he walked out of the kitchen.

"Does he seem off to you?" You asked Dean.

"Nah, he acts like he usually does. Squirrelly and weird."

"Says the squirrel himself." You rolled your eyes. "Did something happen while I was gone?"

Dean said nothing as he looked down, an obvious indicator that he was guilty of something. "Dean," You growled lowly. "Did you say something to Jack? Something that would upset him somehow?"

When Dean didn't give you an answer, you shook your head as you follow Jack to his room.

"Jack." You called out. He seemed to be lost in thought, as he didn't react to your words. "Jack!" You said louder, causing him to turn around. There was a tiny amount of fear in his eyes. If you didn't know him, it wouldn't have affected you.

"What's wrong?" You asked softly, resting your hand on his shoulder.

"Nothing." He spoke. "Why would anything be wrong?"

"Jack, I saw how you reacted when Dean came in. You looked like a kicked puppy. Don't tell me it's nothing, kiddo."

In the time you had known Jack, you had grown to care for him deeply. You had always wanted kids, but in this life, it wasn't possible. Well, it was, but you knew you didn't want your children to do what you do. So when Jack was born, you felt extremely happy because it felt like you finally had a child. Albeit, he did look twenty.

"Dean doesn't like me very much." He admitted.

"I'm sure that's not true. . ." You argued weakly. In all honesty, you didn't think Dean liked Jack either. It's not like he was abusive, but he did treat him differently than everyone else.

"But it is, Y/N."

"How do you know, Jack? With Dean, it takes him time to warm up to people. It took him months to actually trust me. He's a cautious person."

"Did he threaten you too?" Jack asked, genuinely curious. His head was tilted to the side, his honey blonde hair falling into his eyes. He had gotten that head tilt from Cas.

"Dean. . . Threatened you?" You whispered hoarsely.

"Yes," He nodded. "He told me if I hurt you or Sam, or anyone, that he would be the one to hunt me down and kill me."

Your mouth popped open in horror. You could never imagine your sweet, loveable, goofy Dean threatening Jack. "What else did he say, Jack? Did he say anything prior to this?"

"He said that he doesn't think that I can be saved. He said that even though you and Sam think that I can, that he doesn't."

"Jack, you don't need to be saved. There is no saving to do. You are a good kid. You would never do anything to intentionally hurt anyone. I'm so sorry. I should have been there." You sigh.

"He's not wrong, Y/N. I can't be saved. What if I turn out like my father, my real father."

You frowned as you cupped his face in your hands. "Jack, you are nothing, and I mean nothing, like Lucifer. You are just like your mother. You are sweet, caring, and you are empathetic. Just like Kelly."

"You really believe that?" He whispered, tears forming in his eyes.

"No, I don't believe it, Jack. I know it. You are nothing like Lucifer. If anything, you are much more like Castiel."

"Really?" He smiled.

"Yeah," You nodded. "You see, I don't know if you know this, but Cas does this little thing where he tilts his head to the side if he doesn't understand something or if he's perplexed. And I noticed that you do the same thing." Jack's smile widened as you removed your hands from his face. "And neither of you have any knowledge of pop culture. Even though Cas was here for a lot longer than you, he never understood a single reference any of us made. Even if it was something like Scooby Doo." You giggled, feeling your throat tightening at the thought of your dead friend. "And you two state the obvious a lot. Not in a bad way, more in a comedic way. It lightens the mood nearly every time. Cas would rarely smile. When I asked him why, he would say that the world was going to hell and he didn't have anything to smile about. But when he did smile, it would make everyone else smile with him. The same goes for you. Just seeing that little toothy grin of yours makes me smile. I mean hell, you two even look a lot alike."

"Could you tell me more about him?" Jack asked.

"Of course, but I have something to take care of first. Then you and I will cuddle up and watch a movie and I'll tell you everything you want to know about Cas, okay?"

"Yeah, I'd like that." He spoke. "Before you go, could I ask you something?" You nodded. "If I were to have a mother figure, and I called her mom, do you think my mother would be upset?"

"No, sweetheart, I don't think she would be upset. I think that she would be happy that there's someone down here taking care of you and you feel comfortable enough to call them mom." You said, completely oblivious as to what Jack was suggesting.

"Then. . . Could I call you mom?"

You felt the air leave your lungs as his words hit you like a truck. Jack watched as tears welled up in your eyes. Jack was horrified; he had never meant to make you cry. "Yo-you want to call me m-mom?" You stammer.

"If you're not comfortable with it I understand. I'm sorry, Y/N, I-"

You cut him off with a tight embrace. "Of course you can call me mom." You whisper, squeezing the boy tightly.

"Why are you crying?" He questioned.

"These are happy tears, Jack. I'm not upset. It's just. . . I never thought that I would have children, but then you came along, and you gave me what I wanted. You gave me a chance to be a mother."

"Thank you for being here for me, mom."

You gave Jack a huge smile as you pulled away. "Okay," You said, putting a hand on his arm. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to deal with my ass of a husband."

---

"Dean Winchester," You boomed, roaming around the bunker in search for your husband.

"Ooooh, you're in trouble." You hear Sam snicker.

"But I didn't do anything. Wait, what day is it?" Dean asked frantically.

"April ninth." Sam quipped.

"Okay, no birthday, no anniversary, so there's that."

You entered The Dean Cave, as Dean called it, seeing red. "What the hell, Winchester." You growled. "Sam, out. Now."

"You don't have to tell me twice." Sam said, grabbing his bowl of popcorn and walking out of the room.

"Yes, darling, sweetheart, love of my life. What can I do for you?" Dean spoke sweetly, giving you those stupid, green doe eyes.

"Jack told me." You said simply. "He told me what you said to him. That if it comes down to killing him, that you would be the one to do it. That there was no saving him."

"Y/N, you have to understand where I'm coming from." He tried to reason with you. "You should have seen him. He was stabbing himself with a knife! And it closed up like it was nothing! It's not  normal. He's not normal."

"And?! None of us are normal, Dean. We've all died and came back to life. Sam didn't have a soul, he was hooked on demon blood, yet you were still there for him. You still believed in him. You died and became a demon, you bore the Mark of Cain and had a thing for God's friggin sister! And I still loved you through it. I have been brainwashed and manipulated into hurting all of you, and you still forgave me! Cas betrayed us, and we were still there for him. None of us are fucking normal! So what the hell, Dean? You're holding a grudge against Jack just because of who his dad is?"

"His father is Lucifer, Y/N!"

"Well that's stating the goddamn obvious!" You yelled.

"He could turn on us at any moment! We don't know this kid. We don't know what he can do."

"So we learn, Dean! We should help him figure out his way. Guide him in the right direction. Show him what a true, loving family looks like!"

"We are not his family, Y/N! And he's not our family. He never will be." Dean argued.

You flinched back, glaring at Dean. "How dare you! You son of a bitch! Whether you believe it or not, Jack is family. To me and to Sam. We care about him and love him!"

"He doesn't even know what love means!"

"Yes, he does! Because he feels things, Dean. He cares. He cares about all of us, including you. You know, he asked me if he could call me mom today. Did you know that? He trusts me and cares for me so much that he sees me as a mother figure."

"He's got you brainwashed, Y/N! Can't you see that?!"

"If he looked like his actual age, would you be acting like this?"

"What kind of question is that." He scoffed.

"If Jack looked four months old instead of twenty, would you still be treating him like this?" You asked steadily. Dean remained silent. "See! He is four months old, no matter how old he looks, he's still a baby."

"So, what, you want me to change his diaper or some shit?"

"No! I want you to treat him like a human being!" You yelled.

"But he's not human!"

You and Dean stood your ground, neither of you letting up. "Fine. I'm leaving then. And I'm taking Jack with me."

"No, you're not."

"Fucking watch me, Dean. I can't even look at you right now. Because you are not the man I married. That man was compassionate and caring. This one isn't. And until he comes back, I'm staying away." You cried.

Before Dean could get another word out, you left the den. You noticed that Sam was standing in the hallway, giving you a saddened look. "You're really leaving?"

"I'm sorry, Sam." You sobbed. "But I can't be around him right now. And I don't think Jack should be either. We're going to my parents house for a while. And until he gets his shit together, I'm not coming back.

"I know. I don't understand why Dean is acting like this." He mumbled.

"I don't either. It's so unlike him." You agreed.

"So what are you going to tell Jack?"

"Just that we're going to take a little road trip and visit my parents. I don't know, Sam, this whole thing is so strange to me. But I know have to go."

Sam frowned as he pulled you into a hug. "I'm really going to miss you. But you do what you need to do. And if you ever need anything, you call me, okay? I don't care what time of day it is, call me."

"I will." You squeeze Sam tightly. "Thank you for being an amazing brother and best friend." You pulled away, teary eyed as you parted from your brother in law. "I hope to be back soon."

You softly knocked on Jack's door before entering. "Hey, Jack." You smiled.

"Mom!" He said excitedly. "Are we going to watch movies now?"

"Actually, there's been a change of plans. Me and you are going on a road trip to visit my parents."

"Really? Are Sam and Dean coming with us?"

You swallowed hard, a lump forming in your throat. "No, actually. This is a trip just for us. Sam and Dean wanted to stay here just in case they find a case or something that can get Mary back from apocalypse world. So I'm going to help you pack and then we can get on the road."

---

You had sent Jack to your car, having him put everything in the trunk while you finished up things in the bunker. The last thing you grabbed was a machete that belonged to your father before he gave it to you.

"Don't go." A voice whispered. You turned to see Dean, who looked like he had been crying. "Please don't leave."

You swallowed hard, feeling tears rush to your eyes once more. "Will you accept Jack as family?"

"Y/N-" Dean said, exasperated. "He can stayed here but he's not family."

"That's not good enough, Dean. Because I know how you act around people you don't trust."

"You can't force me to trust him." Dean scoffed.

"That's not what I want. I want you to get to know him. I want you to try."

"Y/N. . . I just. . . I can't."

"I think. . . I think we need time apart." You mumbled.

"Y/N, please –"

"Only for a little bit." You assured him. "They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder, after all." You gave him a sad smile, trying to control your tears.

You turned to leave before Dean's voice stopped you. "If you leave, then we're over. That's it. Don't bother coming home."

You sighed as you looked back at Dean. You cupped his face in your hands and gave him a slow, sensual kiss. You could feel salty tears on your lips as you memorized how Dean's mouth felt against yours. It was warm and soft. You could taste the remnants whiskey on his breath.

You pulled away slightly, resting your forehead on Dean's. You felt tears streaming down your face as you looked the man you had grown to love over the past ten years. You had been through hell and back, literally. You had lost each other, fell out of love and back in love.

"This isn't goodbye, Dean." You whimpered. "I swear it isn't. I love you with every part of my soul. I'm not choosing Jack over you, okay? I just need time. I need you to wait for me."

"That's all I've ever done, Y/N." Dean shook his head. "I waited on you when you were in relationships, when you were heartbroken, when your sister died, I waited on you to love me back. I'm tired of waiting. I will always love you, and you'll always be with me. You've changed me, and I'm so thankful for it. You've made me a better man. But I can't. . . I can't keep doing this, Y/N." He whispered as he slipped off his wedding band. "This is goodbye." He set the ring in your hand, curling your fingers around it. "Goodbye, sweetheart." He gave you one final kiss. But this one was rough and full of passion. It really was goodbye.

"Dean, please." You cried. He pressed a swift kiss to the crown of your head before leaving you standing alone in the library. Sobs racked through your body as you clutched Dean's ring to your chest. "Please come back." You whispered.

You wiped your face of tears and stuck Dean's ring in your pocket. There would be time for tears later. Right now you just needed to get out of the bunker. As you looked around the library, you realized you had never felt this alone.

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x wife!reader #supernatural #supernatural fluff #supernatural angst #jack kline #sam winchester #castiel #season 12 #dean winchester angst

[hansolmates]

17 going on 27

summary; one second, you’re sobbing at prom because the most popular guy in school dumps you due to your relationship being a little prank to break your heart. the next? you’re a creative editor at Ego, the hottest young adult fashion magazine. as you try to figure out what’s the deal with this sudden time skip into adulthood, you come across relationships and friendships that are made to be cherished and made to be broken. pairing; photographer!jungkook x editor!reader (f) genre/warnings; fluff, crack, future enemies to lovers, teenage and adulthood angst, time skips from high school!au to late twenties!au, 13 going on 30!au, all your romantic movie tropes come to life! a really big mess honestly, various movie and music references, mentions of sex, use of alcohol, everyone give jin and jimin a big ol hug, language, a surprise guest from the queen of england w/c; 22.6k a/n; it’s that time of the year baby! the time of the year where i binge watch the good ol’ early 2000s romcoms that make absolutely no sense! a huge thank u to @eerieedits​ for making this beautiful banner. vivi got the whole delia’s/claire’s vibe down to a t! 

if you enjoy this fic pls consider giving it a like and a share✨✨✨

March 19th, 2011

Thirty, flirty, and thriving!

You finger the dog-eared magazine, last month’s issue of a shoddy fashion magazine that featured top actress Jennifer Garner on the front cover. Her caramel brown highlights practically glow on the page, blown out and beautiful. You suppress a sigh, you long to be the radiant young woman on the cover. The headline is glittery, sparkly and just begging for attention. 

Swiping a hand through the pages, your eyes are crowded with over-stimulation. Colorful models dressed up in the latest designs, Chanel and Burberry suits you can only dream of, and happy women at the prime of their lives. 

Twenty-seven and in Heaven! You smile wryly at the cheesy rhyme that headlines the following pages, but nevertheless the happy model on the spread does indeed look like they’re in heaven. 

Sure, you’re no shrinking violet. Heck, you don’t even consider yourself painfully average. You may not be on the traditional spectrum of popularity in high school, but you get around and have a wonderful best friend and an even better boyfriend. However given the social classes that preside, you do get those moments where you second guess your life’s position. Good thing high school has an expiration date, and you’re close to the end.  

“Baby Bun, what are you doing?” the magazine is snatched from your grasp, thrown on the table without a care in the world. Jennifer Garner’s hydro-whitened smile gleams tauntingly at you, “reading that junk is gonna mess with your head.” 

Your boyfriend returns from his final suit fitting, his outfit for tonight all pressed and ready to go. He pouts at you, pulling you up by the hand to lead you out of the Men’s Warehouse. Jeon Jungkook. Captain of the lacrosse team, flying by high school with a sports scholarship already in the bag. Eats up attention like plants soak up the sun. Secretly loves taking photographs of his dog and watching Netflix animes at your house. 

“Aren’t you excited for prom?” 

“Excited to listen to LMFAO’s Party Rock Anthem on repeat?” you guaff, “as if.” 

He pinches your arm lightly, “You also forget that we’re gonna tear up the floor to Nicki Minaj’s Superbass.” 

You shrug listlessly, crunching the white plastic closer to your body. 

Before you can suck all the air out of the garment bag, Jungkook carefully extracts it from your grasp, easily holding it between his one arm so he can thread his other hand through yours. “I am excited! It’s just that… Jimin’s not gonna be there and we’re sitting with the Yearbook committee.”

Looking down at the floor you extract your hand from his, slipping into his parent’s Honda Civic. The yearbook committee, meaning you’d be sitting at a table with head editor Jennie and her group of friends. Friends that are popular and pretty, just like Jungkook. 

Jimin is currently on a flight back from Korea due to a family funeral, therefore leaving a seat empty at your prom table. It was only seat that you cared about, other than Jungkook’s. It’s no one’s fault and Jimin of course is doubly upset to miss prom, but without your best friend you’re not sure if you can survive the night. 

One of the few secrets you keep from Jungkook is the fact that Jennie and you aren’t exactly friendly to each other. You don’t know why, maybe it’s the fact that you don’t run the in same friend group or you always win the debate in Civics class, but Jennie clearly expresses her dislike for you as easily as she expresses her love for Jungkook. 

Which makes you incredibly insecure, but Jennie and Jungkook have been friends for longer than you and him have been together, who are you to intervene? 

Jungkook slips in the driver’s seat, but not before pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek. 

Right. You’re Jungkook’s girlfriend, and that should matter more than his friendship with Jennie. 

But the smell of his freshly cleaned lacrosse jersey, his duffle bag overflowing with protein powder and unfinished assignments remind you that you have your world and he has his. A conversation about your insecurities could wait until tomorrow. 

“When’s Jimin’s flight?” Jungkook asks, one hand on the steering wheel and the other tapping on your thigh as he pulls out. 

“He’ll be back two hours into the dance,” you report, albeit glumly as you rest your head against the cool window. 

“That sucks,” Jungkook replies, a bit of sadness in his tone, “he has to miss out on his prom night.” 

You shrug, “Prom isn’t everything, it’s about the people you spend it with.” 

“Well then,” he squeezes your thigh, “I’m glad I get to spend it with you.” 

You only have a few hours to get ready until you meet Jungkook at his house for pictures, so when you get dropped off, you tell him that he doesn’t have to get out of the car to escort you into your home. But Jungkook is insistent, putting the car in park and getting out your dress for you with such delicacy that you’re positively sure there’s no wrinkles in the fabric. Taking the dress from his grasp you wish him goodbye and a promise to meet each other later. 

“Wait,” Jungkook is biting his lip, unable to let go of your hand even though you’re already up the stairs. You’re looking down at him, a rarity considering his tall frame. 

“What’s wrong, Kook?” 

“Uh, I was just thinking,” he’s scratching the back of his head, and you soften. The little quirk he has is a sign of insecurity, being the star player Jungkook is forced to exude confidence to a fault. “Maybe, we could skip the prom thing? You said so yourself that prom is about the people you spend it with.” 

Your eyes widen, clutching your dress tighter. “What? Jungkook, that’s ridiculous. Between the both of us we’ve spent a lot of money on the clothes and the tickets.” 

“Right,” he forces a laugh, and you put a hand on your hip to think it out but you can’t quite place what’s going on. “Sorry Bun, I just know how the finale of our favorite anime airs tonight.” 

“You’re so silly,” you chastise, reaching down to pinch his cheek. Normally he hates it, but you can’t help but melt when he leans into your touch a little more. “C’mon, I know suits are stuffy and stuff, but let’s just do this high school rite of passage thing. Afterwards we can go to McDonalds or something and watch the recording.” 

“You’re right,” his face is red, “what was I thinking? Can’t miss out on a night to see my beautiful girlfriend all dressed up.” 

He squeezes your hand one last time, a little too tight for comfort. With a half smile he waves, going into his car and driving off. 

You don’t have time to dwell on his weirdness (and trust when you say that Jungkook is plenty weird and it astounds you how the rest of your class has no idea) so you fly up to your room to get your hair and makeup ready. Your parents greet you excitedly along the way, telling you there’s a package left for you on your vanity.

It’s a plain cardboard box, already cut and unwrapped by your parents for convenience. The address shows it came from Korea, proudly displaying the name of your best friend on the return address. Inside is a beautiful compact, made of brushed gold and pink metal. The makeup inside is a loose glitter from a brand that you don’t recognize, but since it’s a gift from Jimin, you trust his taste. 

I have to be at prom somehow, Jimin’s note on the box reads, don’t overthink and have fun! 

You snort, reading the sticky note over and over in Jimin’s voice. Looking over the shade, you can’t help but grimace at the cliché name. Wishing Dust. The color is a little too white and silvery for your taste, but you’ll wear it in honor of Jimin. 

The dress, the hair, the makeup all come together little by little. You like the ritual of getting ready, building yourself up to the highest order and feeling closer and closer to the beautiful women in magazines. Surprisingly, your favorite part of getting ready is applying the glitter that Jimin gifted you. The puff enclosed is cloud soft, and surprisingly the color doesn’t look too ashen on your skin. The glitter sinks into your skin like a soft butter, accentuating your collarbones and cheeks as if you are glowing from within. 

You smile at yourself in the mirror. A little part of you wishes you could look like this everyday. You wish you could always look and feel this confident, and act mature and graceful. 

A buzzing on your desk stops your wishful thinking, and you frown at the message that lights up your phone. 

Jungkook: sorry bun, but the civic finally broke down and its on its way to car heaven. Could we meet at the party hall instead? We can take pictures there, jennie mentioned yearbook hired a photographer

Disheartened, you send a quick text back saying it’s fine. Any more explanation on your feelings would reveal your disappointment. You don’t know how you’re going to tell your parents that they won’t be taking pictures with your boyfriend anytime soon. So you suck it in and take solo pictures for your parents and some group selfies. This is just one bump in the night, the rest of it should be smooth sailing. 

But when your parents drop you off at the venue your eyes first land on a beat up Honda Civic. You’re pretty sure car heaven isn’t at the prom. 

The rest of your entrance is a blur as you go through every corner of the venue, searching for your boyfriend. You’re clutching his matching flower in your hand, a beautiful red rose with baby’s breath circling around it, all clutched together in a black silk ribbon. You wonder what kind of flower he bought you. 

But it’s nearly impossible to find him. Not at the photobooth, the appetizer buffet, or in the lobby. It’s not until you’re sweating at the brow and nearing the corner of the venue that you do find him.

Lips locked, kissing Jennie. 

The plastic encasing Jungkook’s boutonniere drops, clanging to the ground. 

Whispers of you circle the air, meeting your ears and confirming all your insecurities. 

“Oh my god, I knew Jungkook was cheating on her!” 

“Wow, how pathetic. She ran all the way to prom alone to see this?” 

“I thought his girlfriend was a smart girl. How did she not know that their relationship was a bet all along?” 

Jungkook and Jennie are on the balcony, looking picture perfect in matching formal attire and flowers. The sun is setting, not taking its time as it sinks deeper and deeper into the horizon. The sky darkens and the air is chilly, much like your heart. 

Jungkook's eyes are wide and in shock as he watches you from the balcony, but Jennie’s are sharp and satisfied. Satisfied, as if the whole thing had been orchestrated. 

While you can’t hear him because he’s so far away, you can see the ghost of your name on his lips. Your ears are ringing, numb to the laughter of the students watching and the pity that others are throwing at you. You feel dumb. You feel like throwing up. In a bout of anger your heel digs into the plastic of the boutonniere, crushing the innocent rose in its clear coffin. 

You don’t make it far out the door when one of your favorite teachers snatches you in concern. 

“Honey, any further and you’ll be running on the highway," Mrs. Song jokes, pulling you away from the entrance. 

You feel like a newborn deer in your heels and incredibly heavy in your dress as Mrs. Song drags you over to a staff bathroom. It's far, far away from the actual party. Mrs. Song doesn't say anything, and just gives you a sad smile as she let's you go into the single stall alone. 

Sitting on the toilet and not giving a care that your dress is probably getting soiled, you bury your face in your hands and finally let the tears flow. Fat, frustrated tears roll down your cheeks without a care in the world. 

"Mrs. Song please, I need to get in there." 

"Now Jungkook, I think you've done enough for today. Go back to the party and don't worry about it." 

You can imagine Jungkook now, he hated it when people told him not to worry.  It only made him more annoyed, fists probably clenched under his perfectly tailored suit and his cute teeth uncharacteristically gritted. He cared to a fault, at least you thought he did. He ruined your night, he made you feel so dumb and silly.

But the longer you stayed in the dim bathroom, you could care less. Thank goodness for Mrs. Song guarding the door. Why would he bother to follow you? It turns out all your insecurities are not in vain, and that you’ve been ignoring a gut feeling you’ve mistaken for your lack of trust. You shouldn’t have trusted Jungkook. You shouldn’t have been so tolerable of Jennie. 

Goodness, you feel so stupid. You hope that there are other bathrooms for staff to use, because you want to coop yourself in here until the last dance. Mascara drips on your sleeves, your hands swiping at your cheeks to stop any tears from staining your dress even further. 

The more you hear Jungkook and Mrs. Song argue, the more you want to disappear. You bury yourself on the floor, uncaring of how dirty the tiles are. Glitter smears across your cheeks and sticks to your hands, and you no longer feel like the thriving young adult you once felt when you walked out the door this evening.

All you can do is cry and pray you can get through the night. And the next day, and the rest of senior year. You don’t want to see Jungkook or Jennie until graduation, when they walk out of the door and permanently out of your life. You wish you could skip the rest of the semester, and fastforward to the life you’ve carved for yourself in your dreams since freshman year. You wish you could be like the woman on the magazine, who has her whole life put together. To be a woman who holds all the confidence in the world and doesn’t have to worry about stupid men. 

Just like the cover. Thirty, flirty and thriving. Just like the models in the magazines. Twenty-seven and in heaven. 

Just once, do you want to taste the feeling of having life on your side. 

March 20st, 2021

Your first thought is that you feel disgusting. 

Of course, falling asleep in a random bathroom stall will make you feel those things. Your dress clinging uncomfortably to your sweating form, lulled to the sounds of Mrs. Song’s temperamental voice and Jungkook’s arguing. 

But for some reason it’s a different kind of disgusting. The feeling is rotting in your throat, as if there’s a tang stuck to the roof of your mouth. You also feel impossibly dehydrated, as if you’ve run a marathon. And for some reason you’re sore? Especially in the crotch, and you don’t remember experiencing any cramps yesterday. 

Your hands come to your body, and instead of feeling tulle and taffeta your hands are greeted with a silky black negligee that hangs across your waist. Panic stings in your bones like a stroke of lightning. 

Eyes snapping open, your breath catches in your throat when you take in the room. You’re on a large plush creme couch, large enough to be a bed. The organza curtains are a shade of bottle green and are opened slightly to let the morning sun in. From your view it seems like this is the top floor of the complex, overlooking the city horizon. 

You feel the covers shift slightly, and you realize there’s a naked man sleeping next to you. You scream. 

The man screams back with an even higher pitch, falling off the couch and clutching the sheets like a lifeline. “What?” he panics, eyes darting back and forth across the room like he’s on a reality television show. “What the fuck? Is there something on my face! Why are you screaming so early!” 

The fact that he’s an adult man and you’re seventeen is even more terrifying, and you feel absolutely naked despite the fact that you’re nearly clothed. But what confuses you more is that this man looks awfully familiar. 

Familiar in the sense that you’ve seen him in one too many television sitcoms to count. This man in front of you looks like Kim Seokjin, the protagonist of your favorite television show: Sky City. He has the same plump lips and pretty face, only aged up. But last time you checked on Soompi, Seokjin is supposed to be twenty years old and filming the next season in New Zealand. Arguably he could be his older brother, but he never acted and you don’t think he’d be the spitting image. 

“Seokjin?” you taste the name on your tongue, “Kim Seokjin?” 

Seokjin relaxes considerably, and he finds it appropriate to return to the couch, placing a tentative hand on your thigh. “Right, were you really that drunk? You got my name right, but it seems that you’ve forgotten that the only name you called me last night was sex god…” 

His plush lips meet the ends of your earlobe, and you squeal at the strange sensation. 

You’ve had sex with this man and you can’t even remember it? Furthermore how can a peasant like you be in contact with a celebrity? What on earth happened last night? Shouldn’t you be calling the police or panicking more? Where’s the pepper spray and sharp knives where you need them? You can’t even find it in you to find a sharp weapon at your once cherished-idol, who’s apparently unfazed and drinking in your body like he has a taste of it every night. 

“What’s the date?” you push him away, looking around for any signs of where you are and how you ended up here. 

“It’s the first day of spring,” Seokjin says easily, stretching out on the couch. “I wonder when the cherry blossoms will bloom. Should we have a picnic with Bogum?” 

“Where’s my phone, I can’t find my phone!” 

Seokjin doesn’t bat an eye as he digs through the couch, pulling something from under him. He waves it in front of your face. “That’s not my phone,” you deadpan. 

“Okay I guess you were actually that drunk,” Seokjin rolls his eyes, forcing the large piece of plastic and metal on your palm. “When you went to the bathroom last night you dropped your old phone in the toilet. We picked up a new one on the way to the next bar. Good thing the new Samsung dropped last month!” 

Since when are phones this large? You carry the strange weight in your hands, confused as to why Seokjin thinks this is your phone. You own a beat up 2G that barely gets any reception in the school basement. But when you turn it on, the screen recognizes your face immediately and unlocks. Wow, since when do cell phones do face recognition? 

A selfie of you and Seokjin appears on the homescreen, looking totally happy. 

Is that you? 

No longer do you have acne lining your brows, or uneven skin texture. Your smile is high and prominent. Your visage is clean and done with minimal makeup, highlighting your beauty. 

The date flickers on the top of the screen. March 20th, 2021: 7:42AM.

You scream again. Seokjin screams again for the heck of it. 

“How did this happen!” you shriek, dropping your phone to step up to the window. You bask in your reflection, mildly impressed and even more so afraid of what’s in front of you. Your body has filled out like an adult, and considering it’s ten years into the future, other things have filled out as well. Experimentally, your hands go out to your chest, squeezing. Yep, those knockers were not there the last time you checked. 

“Well, you came back from work completely drained from a shoot and I just finished filming my Everyday Skincare Routine video with Vogue,” Seokjin comes up to you, blanket tied around his waist like a long towel. “We met at our usual bar and do what we usually do when we’re both stressed: bang it out.” 

You watch as Seokjin’s hands snake around your slick silk, hugging you from behind like it’s second nature. “Is this a dream?” you ask yourself, because it’s not unlikely that you’ve had a sex dream with Seokjin and this is the aftermath dream. 

“Nope,” you yelp when Seokjin pinches your butt, hard. It stings. “This is real life, baby.” 

“Are we dating?” 

You feel Seokjin’s grip tense, and he shoves your innocent question away with a coarse laugh. “You know both you and me don’t do serious relationships. It’s why we work so well together, you know that.” 

“Right,” you reply softly. That doesn’t sound like you at all, and it scares you considerably. 

“So, I gotta go,” you panic when he lets go and starts searching around for his clothes. Your face heats up at Seokjin’s perky ass staring back at you, and your eyes dart to a random spot in the corner. “I got a green meeting with Ellen, and lord knows I don’t wanna face her wrath if I’m late.” 

In seconds he’s fully clothed in a plain shirt and jeans, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Call me beep me, if you wanna reach me,” he sings, throwing a wave over his shoulder as he leaves you in the large apartment. 

The door slams with a hard smack and that’s when you collapse on the couch that feels foreign and strange, breaking into tears. 

The next time you wake up, it’s the next day. It’s a glaringly bright Sunday and for whatever reason you’re still in this aged-up body. Maybe time travel makes the body really tired. This isn’t a dream. You panic for the second time, walking back and forth around the loft that’s apparently yours. It seems like it’s yours, because the bills that linger on the coffee table have your name and the pictures in the one bedroom are of you and your family. 

But the refrigerator in the nook is digital and has fancy ice settings, something you could never imagine owning. Your closet is filled with brand named suits, and with every designer label you pass you mentally rack up the total of just one section. It’s enough to pay for your college tuition if your first choice accepts you. 

Wait. You’re apparently twenty-seven, college is long gone. 

Lying in your bed feels better, surrounded by familiar pictures of your cousins and family. Your favorite snacks are tucked with care in your nightstand, and it makes you feel a tiny bit better knowing that your favorite chocolate and chips will never change. 

What happened in the past ten years? Why don’t you remember anything and are you entirely sure this isn’t some strange fever dream? 

Time ticks slowly as you spend the afternoon, glued to your phone. It’s a 25 Note+ and it’s filled with multiple doohickeys and settings that make you feel technologically inept. You never thought you were bad with technology, but clearly these phones have a learning curve attached to them. 

You try to call your family, but according to the voicemail left they’re on a Disney cruise that you paid for. Your heart aches at the excited voice of your parents. Why are they on a vacation without you? 

The next thing you aim for is finding Jimin’s contact. According to Google Maps, you’re not far from your hometown and you know that Jimin’s always wanted to move to the city so he must be nearby. To your chagrin, his name isn’t on your contact list. Strange, he’s always number two on speed dial. 

Clicking on the internet browser, you go to the online Whitepages and search up Park Jimin. There may be a million ones, but maybe you could get a lead. When a picture and an address show up easily with one swipe, you scoff. The internet has no room for privacy ten years later, huh? 

The most casual thing you own in your closet is a Free People dress, reaching mid-calf with flowing bell sleeves. Heck, you couldn’t even find a single pair of jeans. You don’t care however, as you swipe your keys from the counter (you gape, you own a Tesla?) and race down to the parking garage. 

Jimin’s apartment is on the other side of the city. It’s strange, transitioning from high rises and shiny windows to quaint brick walls and lived-in patio spaces. You feel like it’s a race against time as you make it all the way to his room, knocking feverishly on the mahogany red door. 

“What? Who is it?” it’s clear that his room is cheap, the walls thin as you hear his voice shuffle throughout the room. Why are you shaking? It’s just your best friend. 

The door swings open and you and Jimin drink each other in. His baby fat has melted from his cheeks, revealing a handsome and charming jawline. His hair is no longer a natural black, but has been dyed to a sandy blond that suits his tan. His eyes, wide in surprise, are still a soft brown but not as bright as when he was seventeen. 

“Jimin,” your third round of tears hits you like a truck at the sight of your best friend, and you immediately run into his arms. 

But he doesn’t hug you back immediately. In fact, he doesn’t know what to do at all. Your name rolls off his lips like he’s seen a ghost. 

You pull away, as if you are burned. You flinch at the way Jimin regards you. “Is something wrong?” 

“I don’t know,” he looks at you, crossing his arms, “I don’t know what to feel when your old best friend suddenly shows up at your doorstep after ten years.” 

What? 

“Why would I do that?” you whisper, bracing your hand against the doorframe to steady yourself. 

“Well, after graduation you chose a college at the last minute. Decided to go to a prestigious fashion university in Europe. Shacked it up with some British guys and well, forgot about your past but I guess I can’t blame you.” 

“But I couldn’t have left you,” you know you’re not even talking to Jimin, but in fact scolding yourself for being so stupid these past ten years. “I was crying for you that night at prom. All I wanted was for you to be there and hold me!” 

That strikes a cord. Jimin pops his head into the hallway, looking back and forth to see if anyone is watching. He sighs when your tears turn into sobs, shaking your form. “Come in,” he mutters, ushering you inside.

Jimin’s apartment feels more like home than your apartment does. Cosy and warm with the scent of jasmine brewing on the stove. The pour of tea soothes you slightly as you relax on the worn leather couch. 

Jimin hands you a mug, sitting opposite you against the rickety living room table. “Are you okay?” he asks, showing genuine concern for the first time. 

“I’m,” you roll the muddy liquid in your grasp, watching the tea leaves tumble. “I just came back from the hospital, actually. Hit my head drinking last night and I’m suffering from memory loss,” you clutch your head for good measure, feigning injury.  

“Memory loss?” he gapes, unable to see through your lie. 

“Yeah uh,” you wince, “almost ten years of memory loss.” 

Jimin isn’t a man who thinks ahead, preferring to live in the moment. You figure he’s not going to question your excuse. Your former best friend nearly drops his tea in the process, hot drops burning his hand. He hisses, placing the plain mug on the table as he goes to his shelves, pulling out your class yearbook. 

“Ten years,” he shakes his head, looking like he’s just stepped into a Korean drama. “Is that even possible?” 

“Must be,” you sigh, not wanting to delve into the details of how you ended up in the future, “the first thing I did when I woke up was scream my head off. Then I woke up later and the first person I called were my parents who didn’t pick up, and then I wanted to call you but,” you squeeze the cup in your hands, “I couldn’t find your contact so I searched you up.” 

“Should we call the hospital or something? Maybe you shouldn’t be walking around like this.” 

“Don’t worry, they said the memory loss is only temporary,” you force a smile, knocking your head lightly with the heel of your palm, “I just gotta y’know, catch up a little bit. I thought you could help.” 

Jimin is patient, albeit a little nervous, watching carefully as your eyes glaze emptily over the old yearbook. You’re unfazed at the familiar faces and events that are described to you in detail, unable to recall what happened during the events that followed graduation. There’s barely any pictures of you, so it doesn’t help when he tries to explain as much as he can. 

You stop him at the sports section, pointing a finger at Jungkook being carried by his fellow teammates during the lacrosse championships. “What happened to Jungkook?” 

Jimin shrugged, “Blew his sports scholarship,” your eyebrows float to the top of your forehead, appalled that your former love would do such a thing, “decided to pursue his passion and went to an art school for a degree in photography.” 

So much has changed in the past ten years. 

“Hey, can you please stop crying?” 

“I’m sorry,” you warble, wiping at your sleeve as if the fabric didn’t cost hundreds of dollars, “I must be making you so uncomfortable by barging in. I’ll get out of your life—”

“No, not that. I just don’t like seeing you cry,” Jimin sighs, squeezing your knee, “of course I was upset when you suddenly upped and left town to study in another continent. But I was still happy for you. On the internet you seemed tons happier since highschool.” 

“I can say that’s no longer the case,” you mutter sadly, taking a long drag of your tea. The burn flows down your throat, digging you to reality, “I guess I just woke up and wasn’t prepared to be the person I ended up being.” 

“Well, what can your former best friend do to make it better?” 

Your eyes widen at Jimin’s uneasy stare, as if he’s wondering whether he said the right thing or not. 

“Um,” you bite your lip, “will you go shopping with me? I realized I don’t own any sweatpants or sneakers and I would really like to wear something comfortable right now,” you look despondently on your uncomfortable dress, swinging around the sleeves that seem to snag onto everything. 

“Okay,” he nods easily, “will you also buy me new sweatpants and sneakers? And dinner? I really want a New York Strip.” 

“What?” you furrow your brows, “can I afford that?” 

He chuckles to himself, pulling you up and wiping the tears on your face with a tissue from his pocket. You don’t even care to ask whether the tissue is clean, only focusing on the tender gesture that you’ve missed so much. 

“Honey, you’re one of the co-editors of Ego. I’m sure a couple pairs of sweatpants and steak will barely make a dent in your bank account.” 

You’re flabbergasted. Ego? The fashion magazine that’s on billboards and commercials? That Ego? 

After a couple checks through your bank account, and a triple check with a phone call and trip to the ATM, you’re sure the money is yours. It scares you, but also comforts you knowing that you’ve always been able to make it big. 

You barely bat an eye as Jimin tugs you around the city with a familiarity that has you reeling. You struggle to remember the streets you pass and the signs that indicate what part of town you’re in, all whilst Jimin basks in the fruits of your labor. You don’t give a shit, obviously. It makes you happy seeing Jimin slowly melt and grow more comfortable throughout the day. 

This is the kind of life you envisioned. One where comfort isn’t discarded for luxury, where the two cultures can marry. Jimin busts a gut when he sees you angrily shove your Free People dress deep in your shopping bags in favor of a black Adidas tracksuit that makes you feel like a soccer mom. Of course, he doesn’t know why you’re so aggressive with all your luxurious items, heck you even make him drive your Tesla, but nevertheless each passing hour brightens you up considerably.  

When you two arrive at a fancy steakhouse with a dress code, the manager doesn’t hesitate to chide you and suggest the Applebee’s down the street. 

You retort back that you’re an editor of Ego, and in seconds you’d have this restaurant swarmed with bad reviews. You know nothing about culinary review but you’re sure the manager doesn’t know that, and no arguments are placed after that. 

The evening puts you in higher spirits, and you’re almost convinced that you’re a successful twenty-something catching up with your former best friend. You’ve always been mature for your age, high school can do that to a person, and it makes it vastly easier to keep up with the new decade. 

“So,” you help Jimin get his bags up into his apartment. A little part of it feels like a bribe as you carry all the name brands on your arms, but you chalk it up to being compensation for the last ten years, “who are the people you hang out with now? Anyone I know?” 

“Well, Taehyung sometimes drops by if he’s free. He’s traveling the world now, he actually works with you,” Jimin provides the information smoothly, “only he works in the international business column. But surprisingly, the person I hang out the most with is—”

“Jungkook.” 

Standing face-to-face with your old high school sweetheart disarms you, and you’re sorely reminded that just you’re a seventeen-year-old in a twenty-seven-year-old’s body. 

Jungkook looks tired, and he rubs his eyes a bit as if to make sure he isn’t dreaming. You in the flesh, looking purposeful and confident as you hold three bags on each arm, each piece probably costing more than his rent. He’s filled out, what once was lean muscle and minor definition has turned into full muscle mass hidden beneath a large t-shirt and sweatpants that are two sizes too big. His face is still sweet-looking and baby-like, but his hair is overgrown and waving in front of his eyes without a care in the world. 

“Did I mention we’re neighbors?” you can practically hear the wince in Jimin’s voice, probably regretting that he hid that chunk of information from you. 

Jungkook tastes his name on your lips, and it sounds foriegn and strange coming from the both of you. “Good to see you,” he says, voice low. 

You barely formulate a response, replying with an equally nervous “right back at ya” and then you two resume staring at each other. While Jungkook hasn’t seen you in the last ten years, you saw him yesterday. Yesterday, where you started the day all peachy keen and it spiraled downhill shortly after. It’s jarring, knowing that your body doesn’t fit your conscience. 

“Well I uh,” Jungkook lifts his indicator to leave, a large garbage bag, “bye.” 

Jungkook shuffles out of the small hallway, and you get a whiff of his scent. It’s still the same, fabric softener mixed with his own musk. 

“I,” you start off slow, “maybe I should go talk to him?” 

“No,” he warns. “You and Jungkook are completely different people now, he’s just gonna think you’re pitying him if you go up and talk to him out of the blue.”

“But we’ve always been different people.” 

“You really think that?” Jimin shakes his head, “I know what happened at prom was rough but, I really didn’t think much of your relationship with Jungkook before that. It seemed like you were pretty compatible—”

“Up until the point he was kissing Jennie in matching flowers on the balcony like some kind of romance film?” you scoff, crossing your arms, “right. Super compatible.” 

Jimin sighs, as if he’s chastising a teenager. “Prom happened ten years ago, don’t act like it happened yesterday. People change.” 

You frown, because in your mind it did happen yesterday. 

Sleeping last night was hell. It’s one thing to be completely zonked out of your mind and unsure if you’re in a dream or weird coma, but knowing that you’re going to be stuck here for awhile is painful. Your loft is too big for your tiny body, your mattress cold and empty with just you in it. Without your parents to call and you feeling wholly insecure about your rekindling with Jimin, the only person you can really call is… Seokjin. 

And you really don’t want a repeat of your first night. 

So you suck it up, spend your waking hours in your office and quickly learning your tasks for work. You don’t even know what time you’re supposed to clock in, but from a sticky note attached to your MacBook it seems that you have a creative meeting at 10AM. You allow yourself two hours of sleep before you get moving.

The one exciting thing about your morning is that your outfit choices are virtually limitless. You feel like Cher in Clueless, all your outfits color-coordinated and organized by season. You pick out a springy Chanel number, a pale pink tweed skirt suit that has you feeling equally parts cute and an independent working woman. You even make time to buy yourself a coffee, because that’s what adults do right? 

Your office is gorgeous. Also located in the upper part of the city, the glass desk and high windows fit right in. You have an ideas board filled with various designs, fabrics and models to choose from. There’s a little frilly notebook straight out of the 2000s, all filled with phone numbers and special contacts all at your disposal. You even have your own cold press coffee machine complete with a mini-fridge. 

“You’re never this early, nervous for the meeting?” 

You squeal, nearly dropping your coffee as you take a tour around your office. You fight the urge to gape and point accusingly at the woman standing at your door.

“Jennie?” 

“In the flesh,” she gives you a cool smirk, holding her arms out for a hug. It really throws you for a loop, and you’re left stricken in your spot as Jennie closes the gap and squeezes the life out of you. Her grey pinstripe pantsuit crumples against your softer fabric. “You know you can’t get rid of me that easily.” 

“Jennie and you are practically besties,” Jimin sounds a little jealous while saying that, forcing you to scroll through your Instagram page to see the countless selfies of you and your high school rival, “I mean, at least that’s what the internet says. Went to college in Europe together and everything.” 

So it’s true. You awkwardly pat Jennie on the back, and she doesn’t seem to mind when she pulls away and tells you to meet upstairs. You mindlessly follow after her to the conference room, wishing a kind good morning to everyone that greets you. 

Once you make it upstairs, you flinch at the loud screech of your voice. “My favorite editor!” someone in a plaid red suit runs up to you and throws an arm around your shoulders. The editor-in-chief Jung Hoseok smiles brightly at you, leading you to a seat at the head of the table right next to him. You’re cosy with the editor-in-chief? This is crazy! 

“G-good morning Mr. Jung,” you stutter, trying to remain cool. 

“Did something happen to you this weekend?” Hoseok jests, pinching your cheek like a long lost sister. “You always call me Hobi.” 

“Oh,” you force a giggle, “you don’t even know how crazy this weekend was.” 

Hoseok simply laughs and gets himself settled for the meeting.

“I’m so jealous,” Jennie sing-songs, a manicured finger trailing over the back of your chair, “only the best of the best can sit next to the big boss.” 

The comment has you bristling. Are you really friends? Giving her a tight smile, she saunters to another corner of the meeting. On your section of the table is your itinerary and iPad, ready for note-taking. 

“One thing that we do at Ego is consistency,” Hoseok pulls up a projection of this year’s editions, all carbon copies of the same cover. “And while that is admirable, I want to put my top editors to the test and come up with the theme for next month’s issue.” 

Hoseok sends you yet another pearly white smile, and due to the sheer closeness you know that secret smile is only reserved for you. That makes you squirm in your seat, already feeling the pressure building in the pit of your stomach. 

“Take two days off this week to plan. Work out the days you’ll be out of the office with HR, those days you’ll be working in the city, finding ideas and inspiration for the issue. Remember, think outside the box!” Hoseok does a little fist pump, cutting through the air like his life depends on it. 

The whole lot of the group continues to stare at Hoseok, waiting for his next instructions. Then, the adults begin to panic, similar to a high school class that’s been told they have a pop quiz that’s worth half their grade. You sigh internally, you suppose high school never ends. 

“C’mon,” Hoseok urges, flailing his arms around, “get out there! Make moves, make money!” 

But the only moves you’ve made since 2PM are fleeting trips to the bathroom. 

Obviously you don’t have any memory of your degree or experience, so instead of feeling like an editor you feel more like a teenager playing dress-up. You couldn’t even sneakily ask Jennie for help because she deadpanned: “I’m not sharing any secrets, doll.” It seems that being backhandedly mean is a theme in your relationship, so after that you rolled your eyes and locked your door. Thankfully you packed a pair of sweatpants so you can comfortably lie down on the floor while you spread out your workspace. Magazines littered the hardwood, all sultry and sexy looking models staring back at you with the same half-lidded stare and overdone makeup. 

It makes you cringe, thinking back to the other day when you were jealous of these people. Now that you have this life, thriving and full of beauty, is that the only thing you want to show to your audience? How can they possibly relate to models who make triple their salary? What about the authenticity? The ingenuity? 

And that’s when it hits you. 

Scrambling to your computer, you search up a photographer that you know will be completely and utterly transparent. 

My Time Studios: Capturing the raw moment. 

You know exactly what you want for next month’s issue. 

Jungkook does not expect to see you through the peephole of his apartment, fiddling with the threads of your clothes and eyes glued to the ground. He mutters a curse under his breath, jamming his fingers between the metal double lock to swing his head out. He doesn’t even bother to open up all the way, just enough to stick his face out. 

“Jungkook, hi!” he still can’t believe you’re around. Jungkook winces at your tone, high and sounding like a teenager. He thought by now you’d be traveling the world, climbing to bigger and better things. Then again, the upper part of the city is certainly an upgrade. He just thought you’d want to be far, far away from him. “I b-brought you McDonalds.” 

You hold up a greasy bag of fast food, and his nose immediately responds to the smell of fresh fries and a quarter pounder (with cheese, of course.) It annoys him that you still know his weakness, but he isn’t going to go that easily. 

“Why are you here?” he asks a little too sharply, hands gripping the doorknob. 

“I wanted to offer you a job,” you get straight to the point, as if you know your time at his doorstep is limited. 

He scoffs, “You? Want to put my photos on Ego? You know my business extends to weddings and the occasional Bar Mitzvah. Why would you want me?” 

You frown, crossing your arms. He looks down at your attire, a nicely fitted suit on top, but the skirt is replaced with grey sweatpants. Comical, really. “I’ve always loved your photos,” you admit to him, “you know that. And they’ve gotten so much better since then.” 

The furrow between Jungkook’s brows softens a fraction, smoothed by the honesty in your voice. You’re right, you always made sure to tell Jungkook how much you loved his other talents. Namely, the photography, and sometimes his singing. He can still remember how easily you slept in his arms watching Sky City for hours, all at the melody of your favorite song. While his teachers and classmates loved to venerate his position on the team and his ability to garner attention, you encouraged him to work on the things that mattered to him the most, even in secret. 

Nevertheless, that was ten years ago. 

“I don’t need your charity,” he spits, “Jimin might be able to be bought by some designer clothes and an eighty dollar steak, but not me.” 

The pain in your gaze is glaringly evident, and you don’t even try to hide that you’re upset as the paper bag falls against your lap. If there’s one thing Jungkook knows he’s good at, is hurting your feelings. 

“You think this is charity?” you whisper, hurt delicately lacing your voice. 

“Are you kidding? Last month you got Xu Minghao to photograph your spread for Ego. He’s photographed the damn Queen of England,” if you notice that he’s babbling about reading your magazine, you don’t show it in your face, “the point is, I don’t understand why you’re trying to come into my life again. I don’t want to get involved in your fancy dinner galas or anyone else from high school. So please, just go back to your picture perfect life.” 

And without another qualm he slams the door in your face, effectively shutting you out. It doesn’t feel as good as he wants it to feel, clearly. He feels even shitter than before. His eyes glaze over to his rickety coffee table, cluttered with bills and credit card payments that should’ve been dealt with a long time ago. 

He slugs himself over to his couch, throwing his body over the couch that’s way too short. His legs dangle in mid-air, but it doesn’t stop him from throwing an arm over his eyes to block out the sunset. The bills can wait a little longer. Seeing you was too draining. 

The nap turns into a full-fledged night’s sleep, and by the time he wakes up the sky is dark and it’s the start of a new day. 12:08, the screen of his iPhone confirms. Feeling even crustier and worse than before, his stomach decides to harden the blow and go straight for the gut. He’s sorely reminded of the food you offered him hours ago. 

Quickly pulling on a large denim jacket, he grabs his keys and heads for the 7-Eleven down the park. Nothing like a frozen pizza to fill the gut, fast and cheap. Despite the fact that it’s dark and late, there're still some stray people in the park. A few homeless, some high school stoners who are meeting in secret, and you are typing away on your MacBook. 

Wait, what? 

You’re sitting on a bench in the park, typing away without a care in the world. Shoving soggy fries that he earlier refused in your mouth, you let a couple stray potatoes hang from your lips as your eyes succumb to the screen. You look positively silly, still in a pink blazer and baggy sweatpants. 

He must have been staring a little too long, because soon enough you turn your head, gasping at his figure. You quickly avert your eyes, but don’t make any move to leave the park. That interests him further. 

Shamelessly, he calls your name. His legs get to you in an instant, towering over your tiny figure. 

“What are you doing here?”

“Uh, I’m waiting for Jimin,” your eyes flicker to your open laptop, “and working.” 

At least one of those reasons is a lie. Last time he checked, Jimin always sleeps over at Yoongi’s house on this day. He knows it’s a lie, and you know he knows it’s a lie, but neither of you make the effort to correct it. 

“And what could you possibly be working on at 12AM?” 

“Finding a photographer,” you hunch over your laptop, avoiding eye contact. “I don’t have much time and none of my usual contacts are good enough. This project is… personal.” 

It makes him want to ask further, he can’t lie and say he isn’t intrigued in the kind of vision you’re going for in your next issue. “But why can’t you work at home?” 

“Don’t wanna go,” you reply casually, “it makes me feel lonely.” 

Lonely? You feel lonely? He runs a hand through his hair, frustrated at the display of nonchalance. Back in high school he always encouraged you to feel confident, but not like this. “Hey, it’s nice that you feel comfortable enough to chill in the park at 12AM, but it’s really dumb. You’re lucky you haven’t gotten mugged from all that money you’re carrying around!” he gestures to your fancy clothes and laptop, “and if you feel so lonely, call up one of your rich friends I’m sure they’ll—”

“Oh my god, Jungkook,” you slam your laptop shut, darkening the two of you. “I thought you wanted me to go back to my ‘picture perfect life’, so why do you care?” you get up in his face, standing on the bench so you’re nearly eye-to-eye, “why don’t you pester those kids over there? Tell them to drink their milk and go home,” you scoff, shoving your stuff in your bag. You don’t spare him another glance as you stalk off in the other direction. 

He groans, unable to untangle himself from the mess, “Where are you going?” 

“To a park where you’re not in!” 

Despite the exchange for sweatpants, you’re still wearing shoes not fit for walking. They’re little white pumps, not too tall but not remarkably comfy either. However, that doesn’t deter you from getting the heck out of there, seemingly walking in any possible direction to get away from Jungkook. 

“You’re being ridiculous,” he chastises once his hand clasps around your hand, pulling you around. 

There’s a little resistance, as you try to hide your face to no avail. Jungkook fumbles a little, not thinking you’d be crying. But tiny, shy tears are pooling around your eyes, looking flustered at your display of emotion.

“God,” you mutter to yourself, “I feel like such a kid.” 

That strikes a chord in the twenty-something man. The last time he saw you in the flesh was when you were both kids. Young, unbridled, and stupid. Well, only Jungkook was the stupid one. 

“Do you want me to take you home?” Jungkook offers, feeling guilty about his roughness. 

You shake your head. “No, I told you I don’t want to.” 

“Can I at least call you a cab? Or a friend so you won’t get lonely?” 

“Jungkook, if I had that option would you think I’d be here right now?” he’s trying, he really is. But you’re equally as miffed about this whole situation and at a loss. The two of you engage in a staring contest. It only takes a few seconds for you to crumble, and he frowns when you shiver in your thin blazer. 

Instantly, he rips off his jacket, pulling it over your body. It’s huge on you, swallowing your body and hopefully containing some of his residual heat. 

And finally, he relents. “If you want, I’ll come over and stay until you fall asleep.” 

“Okay,” your eyes widen in instant agreement, pulling something out of your pocket. “Will you drive?” 

His eyes widen at the shiny, minimalistic car key. Your sudden one-eighty has him second guessing his decision. “You drive a Tesla?” he gapes, taking your key like he’s holding the Hope Diamond. 

You got your license in February. One month ago, and only because the instructor felt pity on you since it was your second time retaking it. The fancy car terrifies you, and you’re sure Jungkook has much more experience driving (over ten years worth.)  

You shrug, “Not very good at driving. Haven’t had much practice.”

“Um, the car drives itself?” 

“It does?” you tilt your head, dazed, “wow, technology is amazing.” 

He shakes his head, putting a hand on your back so you can lead the way. You must be tired, because it seems like your head isn’t entirely there anymore. He takes charge, buckles you in and takes a couple minutes to fumble with the car settings. Nevertheless the drive home is smooth (and it takes all of Jungkook’s willpower to not squeal in excitement when the Tesla does in fact, drive itself.) 

You lead him inside your loft like a tiny zombie, throwing your shoes to one corner and throwing your jacket on the kitchen table. 

“Must be hungry,” you can’t even form complete sentences, “there’s food in the fridge, Kook. Sorry if it’s not to your taste.” 

Shuffling away to your room, Jungkook is left to gawk at your apartment. The baseboards of your walls are crusted in pretty pearl designs, swirling around the whole expanse. There’s a television that stretches the wall of the little living room, with a sound and video game system he’s only seen in movies. Your tables are meters and meters of granite, and he wonders how the floor of your apartment can hold all this weight. 

But he supposes it’s because there’s nothing much to hold. No pictures line the walls, only vague looking art to fill up blank space. There’s no touch of warmth despite the heating system under the floor that relaxes his toes. For such a big home, he can only imagine how small you must feel in it. 

Your fridge is just as empty, decorated with a couple of sad-looking salads and some protein shakes. He sighs, grabbing two chicken salads and a banana shake and bringing it to your coffee table. It’s a little two quiet for his liking, so he turns on the television real low just to make the room feel a bit fuller. 

Halfway through one salad he realizes he probably should’ve made you eat as well. Even though these salads aren’t remotely filling, they’re much healthier than some soggy fries. A piece of limp lettuce hangs from Jungkook’s mouth, suddenly feeling guilty for soaking up all of your amenities without inviting you. After all, it is your house. Wiping some sauce from his lips he dusts off his pants, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he makes his way to your room. 

Calling your name, the only reply is the whir of the heater. He only cracks the door a tad, but he sees you slumped against the edge of the bed, bare feet hanging from the end. You barely made it, your clothes strewn across the floor, an oversized t-shirt ruched across your barely covered thighs. Without a thought he quickly scrambles to move you closer to your pillows, and then wraps your body in your plush duvet. You’re out like a light. 

You’re sleeping, so Jungkook should go home. That’s what you two agreed to. He goes back to his late dinner (early breakfast?) mindlessly listening to an infomercial on rare dollar coins. He’ll leave after he eats. 

He didn’t leave. 

Jungkook awakes to a scream, your shrill voice echoing all the way down the hallway into your living room. It takes a second for him to register the empty white walls and the fact that he’s not in his apartment, but eventually it goes back to the point that you’re in distress. He jolts, scrambling off the couch to run to your bedroom. 

“What is it?” he exhales into your doorframe, socks sliding. 

Your hair is in a disarray, shirt rumpled and face scrunched in pain. You shove your phone in his face. “Since when did Iron Man die!” you cry, genuinely horrified at whatever entertainment article you’re reading. 

He slumps against the wall, running a hand over his dry face. “Since Endgame, obviously. That was literally two years ago. Is that why you woke me up?” 

“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t know!” 

“Have you been living under a rock or something?”

“Or something,” you frown, throwing your phone across your bed, “I guess I should go get ready for work.” 

Jungkook watches as you shamelessly hop off your bed, uncaring that your shirt has ridden up, revealing the full expanse of your thighs and then some. You pull out a pair of sweats from a shopping bag, nicking off the tag to put them on your legs. 

“Do you have work?”  you ask casually. 

“Uh, no,” Jungkook coughs, crossing his arms. It’s been awhile since he’s had a solid gig. Two whole weeks have been spent doing more personal work which was fine, but at the same time his bank account could beg to differ. “I’m off today.” 

“Oh, alright,” you shrug, “do you know where I can buy a good camera?” 

“Why?” 

“Gonna go take pictures,” you snatch your wallet and keys from your bedside, stuffing it in a fanny pack. He watches you curiously as you zip your bag shut, muttering something about how you can’t believe that fanny packs are back in style. Swinging the strap over your back, you brush past him. “You can stay if you want,” you add pointedly, before you slip into the bathroom. 

Jungkook doesn’t understand as to why he’s slipping into sensory overload. The house is a shell of itself and the antithesis of a rainbow. Maybe it’s the fact that he woke up ten minutes ago or how you look completely peaceful and want to leave as soon as you wake up. Or how shocked you were that Iron Man has passed and you’ve completely missed Phase 3. Or that you’re not even thinking about breakfast or not wishing him a farewell, practically throwing him into your apartment like a second home. 

He wobbles back to the couch, trying to look as nonchalant as possible as he drapes the fuzzy blankets over his body. He flips through the channels, before finally settling on an old episode of Sky City. 

When you walk out into the living room, you scrunch your face in pain when you make eye contact with Kim Seokjin’s on screen appearance. Oh, how things change. Jungkook knew how much you loved watching Sky City, indulging in the protagonist's attractiveness. 

“Y’know,” Jungkook says over his shoulder, “if you leave me here, I could steal whatever I want.” 

“Go ahead,” you reply flippantly, already slipping on your sneakers. “There’s nothing of value here.” 

What is wrong with you? 

“Wait!” Jungkook throws all his pride at the window, unable to conceal his worry for you. Half your body is out the doorway, and you’re looking at him like he’s grown a second head. His voice takes up the entirety of the room, startling you. “I need to come with you,” he finally settles on, looking serious. “You’re going to buy the wrong camera.” 

“Okay,” you concede immediately, throwing the keys on the couch, “you drive.”

Jungkook must know something’s wrong with you. 

You don’t know how to act around him. Your heart is hurt and your body is a decade older than it was a week ago and everything in your life and mind is a complete wreck. It still aches to look at him, despite the fact that you want him around, all the time. You wish you could know a little more about your adult life, you feel like a proverbial Bambi sitting in a car worth more than your childhood home. It’s a wobbly, shaky road to adulthood, and you’re not having it. 

Jungkook sleeping over is the last thing you thought would happen last night. You didn’t even think he’d relent to coming to your house, since he was pretty hellbent on not being your photographer. 

But now he’s driving your Tesla again, after you instructed him to park the car where you parked it last time. That way, you can go back to the playground you were in the night before. You have a vision for the issue and it starts there. Fiddling around with the expensive camera Jungkook picked out, you feel his gaze burning into your shoulder. 

“Am I doing something wrong?” you ask archly, “I read the manual and everything. Or are you just being a perfectionist again?” 

“What’s wrong with being a perfectionist?” Jungkook shoots back, putting the car in park. As soon as the car stills in the parking lot, he grabs the camera from your grasp like a petulant child. “I’m just trying to make sure you don’t break it. Face it, you’re terrible at technology.” 

“Excuse me! I have a Samsung 25+ and a Tesla!” 

“Yeah? So why did I catch you struggling to use your pay feature on your phone when we grabbed coffee?” 

“It’s new,” you mutter under your breath. Everything is new to you. 

With a growl you snatch back the camera, and Jungkook for once doesn’t act like a baby with a sharing complex and relents. Of course, Jungkook manages to calibrate the camera and figure out the color balance before you could. This only annoys you further, wondering why Jungkook is still sticking around after all this time. 

“Alright,” you step out of the car, slinging the camera around your neck. “Thanks for driving me around, your apartment’s just down the street, right?” You dart your hand out, and Jungkook reluctantly hands over your key beeper. Maybe it’s because he seems to love the car so much, that he has a hard time giving it back. “I’ll see you around.” 

“Wait,” is that his word of the day? Wait wait wait. 

“What is it now, Jungkook?” 

He’s never seen you so full of negative emotions. You’ve been waiting for him to tire of you all day, from your clipped replies and unease ever since you two stepped out of your apartment. 

“Um,” he looks embarrassed, scratching the back of his head, “are you really going to take pictures? You always took really blurry pictures in high school.” 

The mention of high school has you icy, gripping the matte black digital camera to hold your feelings at bay. “Yes, I’m going to go take pictures because the photographer I wanted so rudely rejected me,” you revel in the way he shrinks, probably regretful already. “So if you’ll excuse me, I have a deadline.” 

He continues to follow you, all the way to the park. You make your way to a little garden, and start to take some test photos next to the little daisies that decorate the patch of dirt. You practically feel Jungkook breathing down your neck, feeling antsy everytime you click the shutter. Ignoring him is difficult, especially when he makes little noises of discomfort when you presumably do something wrong. 

“Jungkook, are you going to say something?” you seethe, not caring that the heavy camera strains your neck when it falls against your chest, “or are you just going to make me wait.”

Jungkook’s face is scrunched up, and finally he blurts, “I’m sorry.” 

“Sorry for what?” 

“For saying your life is picture perfect,” he sputters quickly, looking very sweaty. Jungkook always got sweaty when he did things a little too hard. Playing sports, thinking, campaigning on video games. “I—I didn’t mean it. I don’t know. I guess I was just upset at myself and I took it out on you.” 

“Well why are you upset at yourself?” 

“I’m upset because I—I don’t know, it’s complicated,” he plops down on the nearest bench, and while you follow him, you don’t let yourself sit next to him. If you do, you know your subconscious will want to wrap your arms around him and comfort him. That would probably be the worst possible action to perform. “I don’t really do the whole photoshoot thing. Like I said, I’m just doing some weddings and parties here and there. I shouldn’t have said those things about Jimin and how you’re only talking to us out of charity. It’s my fault for not considering how complicated your life could be too,” he looks down at the ground, shameful, “so if you still want me, I would really like to photograph for Ego. And I would also really like that camera back.” 

Unable to resist, you reach over to give him a pat on the shoulder. “I forgive you,” you reply numbly, thinking he was going to apologize for something else. You suppose he’s forgotten about that fateful prom night, just like everyone else. “It’s actually not for Ego, at least not yet. My boss is pitting us against each other, the best idea wins the cover theme.” 

“Don’t worry, we’ll win,” his face eventually breaks into a grin when you remove the camera from your body. “Come to daddy, baby,” he cooes, holding the shiny new camera in his hands like a newborn. 

“Gross,” you twitch, although you’re feeling all the more relieved knowing Jungkook will now be taking the visual reins. “You haven’t had a chance to look at the contract made up, but being paid five-hundred okay?” 

“Five-hundred a week?” 

“No, per day,” you correct, “why wouldn’t I pay you just like I pay the others?” 

Jungkook’s dark brows fly to his forehead. He practically chokes on his spit at the way you put Jungkook in high regard. A blush overtakes his visage, proud and pink as he rushes to get away from you. 

“You don’t even know my concept,” you called after him, chasing the midday sun. 

Jungkook is already in position, fitting the lens between two buildings. The afternoon sun looks like an egg yolk, melting between the clouds. “Well then is it?” he asks, bending down on one knee to get the perfect angle. 

“Well, yesterday when I thought of the idea I just wanted to be reminded of how easy being a kid was,” you don’t even know if Jungkook’s listening properly, given the rapid click click clicks of the shutter and Jungkook constantly moving around to get as many shots as possible. “I realized that not everyone can relate to the models or the clothes we advertise on Ego. Why would I want to see people I actually admire? Like, my friend’s older brother. Or Jimin, president of the drama club. Or even Jungkook, captain of the lacrosse team.” 

“So, nostalgia. The 2000s are back in style, I like it,” he replies simply, tilting the camera towards you, “pose for me.” 

“What? Jungkook,” you frown, holding a hand over your face. He doesn’t relent, continuing to snap you in different angles. 

“Oh! That was a nice one,” he turns the camera to reveal the screen of your furrowed brows, hand over your face, “looks super grunge. Totally a throwback look.” 

“Jungkook, I don’t model. I’m just the one who throws the ideas.” 

“Yeah, but. Wouldn’t it be cool if the readers of Ego could see the genius behind the paper and ink?” he gestures vaguely to your outfit, “and you’re wearing Fila. So that’s like, kind of designer?” 

“I don’t know,” you hug yourself, “I’ll think about it, okay? Let’s focus.” 

“Fine,” Jungkook stops buzzing around you, putting the camera down and following you as you walk back to your car. You don’t think you really need anymore park photos, and Jungkook seems to telepathically agree as well. 

“We need to plan some outfits and some backgrounds. I’ve already arranged a meet up tomorrow in front of our old high school with a couple of models. The school is on a grade-wide trip, so we’ll even have access to the track and field. I was also thinking disposable film? We could scan those.” 

“Alright, who are your models?” 

“Oh, you know. Just friends from school. I wanted it to be as authentic as possible. Taehyung flew back from Hamburg last night, so he said he’ll come. Jimin, obviously.” 

“Well you only had like, two friends in highschool.” 

“And you,” you clip on with a frown, “so don’t dress like a potato sack tomorrow, okay?” 

“I’m not modeling.” 

“Well, I’m still looking for a celebrity model to tack onto so. Don’t look like a chump.” you stick out your hand, while Jungkook pouts at your outstretched limb. If he feels sore that you called him a chump, he doesn’t comment on it when he clasps his larger hand in yours. “Partners?”

“Partners.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me your celebrity model was him?” 

“I specifically told you not to dress like a paper bag. Why did you continue to do so!” 

“You didn’t specify that your model was Kim Seokjin!” 

The current conversation is hushed, hissed between large reflective light panels and a parked car that held all your rented equipment. Currently, Taehyung, Seokjin and Jimin are huddled on the bleachers of your old stomping grounds, laughing at whatever funny video Seokjin has pulled up. They’re all dressed in variants of the same sweatsuit, a combination of Taehyung’s choosing since he’s one of the many color coordinators at Ego. 

But you haven’t started yet, and you would like to get some morning shots in before it gets any warmer. Jungkook is still petulant, pretending to buy time by balancing his tripod. He’s wearing his Birkenstocks, so old they’re definitely the same pair from highschool, and yet another black sweatsuit. 

“Seokjin’s like a big, fat cheeseball,” you assure Jungkook, who’s actually shaking from being in the presence of a celebrity. “No reason to be nervous.”

“That man has literally been part of our Sitcom Sundays for three years,” he gripes, “of course I’m nervous!” 

“Just go to the car. If you want to change I’m sure Taehyung’s brought something that fits you.”

“Well if they see me change they’re gonna see I’m trying too hard,” Jungkook pouts, he actually pouts. 

“I can’t,” you turn around, your Miss Frizzle-esque solar system dress whirling around your waist. The stars twinkle, glittering into Jungkook’s eyes. “Jungkook, do whatever you want. But we need to start in ten! No, five! I’m not paying you to try on Balenciaga and Off-Brand!” 

If Jungkook is shocked by your sudden snippiness or need to get things wrapped up, he doesn’t say anything to it. For once, he’s quiet about his needs and you’re thankful for it. Once he’s gone, you have a chance to breathe. It’s all wholly overwhelming to dive right into the job. Your brain is still in 2011 unfortunately.

“Babe, everything alright?” 

Seokjin appears behind you, having ditched Jimin and Taehyung after he saw you and Jungkook argue. He smooths his hands over your biceps. You’re still unsure over the exact nature of your adult-self’s relationship, but it seems that sans sex you two are relatively close with each other. 

“M’fine,” you mumble tiredly, trying not to stiffen under his hold. You suppose Jimin isn’t going to be the friend you confide into this lifetime. “I’m just nervous. We’re doing all this work and it can potentially go down the drain after this week. What if my idea’s stupid and we’re wasting time? Jennie texted me that her concept is going to be killer and now I’m scared this concept is too aesthetically soft and people don’t care about nostalgia anymore and I feel like simultaneously throwing up and crying—” 

“Whoa whoa, who’s replaced my confident editor and where did she go?” Seokjin decidedly goes with the notion that you’re definitely not fine. He swings his neck back and forth, peering behind the bleachers and over the football field. “My confident editor would never talk bad of herself like this! She commanded a whole crew of fifty within seconds when she did the Kim Taeyeon shoot in Milan! She never cowers under a challenge, the challenge cowers to her!” and in his gallancy you no longer try to shy away, in fact you even giggle at his silly way of comforting you. “And most importantly, she’d never compare herself to a wench like Jennie.” 

Seokjin doesn’t hesitate to swipe the moisture right under your waterline, making sure any traces of your crying are undetectable. “W-wait,” you sputter, “you mean, me and Jennie aren’t actually friends?” 

He chuckles, pulling you into a hug. “Even now, you’re such a good actress.” 

You let Seokjin continue to hold you as the pieces in your empty mind come together. If Jennie is truly not your friend and you two have been faking it all this time, how serious is it? And if so, are you the competitive type? You know for sure Jennie is, and will she stop at nothing to make sure she gets the spread? 

This fear is combined with an equal amount of sadness. You were a little excited to have a lasting friend from college, but your mother always told you to never believe anything on the internet. You suppose those selfies of you and Jennie on your Instagram are nothing but a facade. 

But at the very least Seokjin’s care for you isn’t fake, and you’re thankful that you have at least one friend in this life. If you didn’t do this time skip, would Seokjin remain your only friend? You try not to think too hard about it, “Thanks, Seokjin. I really appreciate you.” 

“Will you appreciate me tonight then?” Seokjin makes a move to kiss your neck, and the moment is promptly ruined. 

Shoving him away you say firmly, “Touch me like that again and I’ll rip your dick off in front of this whole crew.” 

“I love it when you get feisty,” Seokjin melts, but salutes you like a drill sergeant as he runs back to the men on the bleachers. 

It’s then you feel a presence looming over your shoulder. Tall, dark, and emanating. He’s changed, in favor of some fitted jeans and a plain white shirt, paired with black boots. Jungkook is behind you, glaring over your shoulder at Seokjin. So much for showing off your professionalism. Crap, how much of that did he hear? 

“Jungkook, I–”

“Let’s start,” he mutters gruffly, stepping past you to get to the equipment. 

You slap a hand over your face. It’s going to be a long day. 

However, the hours following are probably one of the brightest hours of your life since you’ve appeared in your future-self’s body. At first Jimin was anxious at your invitation, despite being in the high school plays and being okay at public speaking, he didn’t know he’d have the potential to be a model. A couple test shots and some coaching from Taehyung, Jimin is a natural, his photogenic energy strong enough to compete toe-to-toe with Seokjin. 

You also have to hand it to Taehyung, who has been running back and forth between modeling and choosing outfits for the boys. Jimin and you didn’t run in the same group as Taehyung back in high school, but time changes things and if given the opportunity, you would’ve loved to be friends with him back then. 

By the time you are done for the day and you feel like all the possible shots have all ready been taken, you circle around the school. You previously went inside empty classrooms, posed in the cafeteria, even pretended to reenact your school rendition of RENT in the auditorium. 

Everything is mostly packed up and put into the car by the time the sun is setting, and you just wanted to perfect this one shot. 

The gymnasium looks a lot smaller than it did as a child. As a teenager, you constantly feared getting hit in the face by a stray wiffleball, or throwing up during the pacer test after the 100th lap. But now, it just looks like an old gym. 

“It smells like sweaty balls in there,” Taehyung curses, adjusting the patterned button down by smoothing down his chest. He jabs a finger in the boys locker room, where Jimin comes out with another new outfit. 

“I think the sandwich I left in senior year is still there,” Jimin adds, pulling the collar around his burgundy knitted sweater. 

The back of the gym is decorated in balloons. Overnight you managed to build a balloon ring off of Pinterest, one of your proudest moments as you made Jungkook haul the rainbow colored arc and shove it into the trunk. Seokjin is sitting directly under the arc, decorating a letter corkboard. It’s one of those cork boards all the teachers display in class, often decorated with some witty quote or a basic “Welcome to Mr/Mrs/Miss _____’s Class!” 

Jungkook is setting up the camera on a tripod, wanting to do it the old fashioned way. Aside from the freakout he had in the beginning when he realized he was photographing Kim Seokjin, he’s been quiet and strictly professional throughout the whole ordeal. It’s amazing to see this side of him, as he seamlessly transitions from shoot to shoot knowing exactly what he has in mind for each photograph. His direction is soft but impactful, and the boys have no problems following directions. 

“Okay boys, everyone under the arc!” 

Working like this is a rush you can’t even imagine. In high school the path you were in the process of choosing wasn’t clear cut up until this point, but now you know exactly what you want to do for the rest of your life. 

Seokjin holds the finished corkboard in the middle, a proud Class of Ego in white block letters. 

Jungkook only gets a few shots in before Seokjin bemoans, letting the corkboard fall in his lap. 

“Guys, this picture’s gonna stink.” 

Jungkook’s appalled, “Excuse me—” 

“Because you two aren’t in it!” Taehyung agrees easily, “c’mon, JK. Put your camera on timer mode and let’s have all of us in it!” 

A blush melts on Jungkook’s neck, all the way to the tips of his ears. “What? No, that’s silly Tae. I really don’t—agh!” 

The three men are in a controlled frenzy, aiming to get their mission done. Seokjin rounds the camera and makes quick work of enabling a timer and a burst shot. Jimin pulls you by the waist, tugging you ungracefully to the center of the arc. Taehyung is doing a pretty good job of hauling your muscle hunk of a photographer, pressing his shoulders across yours. 

And finally, Seokjin hands you the corkboard. “You should be holding it. After all, you’re the brains behind it!” 

At first it feels awkward, squished between new friends and old friends. First loves and last loves. Despite his warm bicep pressing against you, Jungkook is akin to a sheet of cardboard, arm-to-arm and stiff as a board. 

“Alright people, let’s move it!” Seokjin yells unnecessarily loud, the noise echoing throughout the high walls. “Last couple shots here, and we’re not re-doing it because I’m tired as hell! So look alive and pretend to like each other!” 

The first click of the camera stuns all of you, akin to many terrible school photos where the flash disarms you and your face twists. But that click suddenly gets Jungkook into gear, and you feel him slide a hand over your shoulder, squeezing you toward him so you’re pressed against the side of his chest. He still smells like floral fabric softener, and that makes you smile. 

And suddenly you feel like you’re seventeen again, surrounded with the people you care for the most. 

“So, the tabloids are true huh?” Jimin smirks, waving a flimsy fry in your face. 

“T-tabloids?” you sputter, dabbing the ketchup off your cheek. The greasy burger slips off your grip and onto your plate.  Your expression says it all, it’s painfully innocent and genuinely confused as you attempt to swallow the cheese and lettuce as fast as possible. 

The crew sans Seokjin is eating a very late dinner with you at the restaurant of their choice. They put it to a vote, while you desperately wanted some McDonalds everyone else voted for a more high end restaurant. After all, you’re paying. 

“Ah, don’t try playing coy with us,” Taehyung jests, “the office talks.” 

“Well, whatever you’ve heard isn’t true,” you huff, crossing your arms. “At least, not anymore.” 

“What?” Taehyung bugs out, “I thought you loved your no strings attached relationship with Jinnie.” 

“I guess I did,” you frown, deflating against the plush booth, “I don’t know. I don’t know what I liked back then.” 

You resume eating your burger, trying to ignore the worried look Jimin sends you. He reaches over the table to press his thumb to the little 11s in your forehead, a product of stress. “Does your head still hurt?” he asks. 

Jungkook’s chewing slows considerably. He’s been strangely quiet this evening, opting to order a handful of appetizers and gorging on every single edible thing on the table like a glutton. But at Jimin’s question he turns his head to look at you, “Why would your head still hurt?” 

“She hit her head when she went out drinking with Seokjin last week,” Jimin supplies, “messed with her memory.” 

“Chim,” you frown, gently shoving him off you, “I’m fine now. Pretty much caught up. Just reevaluating my life choices, okay?” 

“How could Seokjin let that happen?” Jungkook asks, putting his fork down. 

“He wasn’t even there,” you shake your head, trying to clear Seokjin’s name as fast as possible. After all, this lie is completely fabricated, a blanket to cover the magical properties your true nature being here has. “I’m fine, Jungkook. Don’t worry about me.” 

He huffs, resuming his meal. “Wasn’t worried,” he disarms, reaching over the table to snatch a mozzarella stick. 

You cover up your disgusted expression by wiping your chin with a soft blue napkin. Jungkook is really out here inhaling the whole table and being a bit of a jerk. 

“Well,” Taehyung claps his hands together, regarding all of you with a closed-lipped smile stretched so wide you’re worried he’ll break. “This is nice. I can’t imagine a time where I’d be reunited with you three. It’s weird. But a good weird.” 

“Ditto,” Jimin echoes, lifting his glass to clink with Taehyung’s. Throwing an arm over your shoulder he remarks, “could’ve never imagined my ‘ol best friend would’ve wanted to pursue fashion.” 

“What?” you glower, pinching his thigh, “I love fashion! I spent months planning my Clueless Halloween costume and our summers cosplaying!” 

“Right, Cher,” teased Jimin, “that yellow plaid suit that made you look like a bottle of mustard?” 

“You little–” 

Taehyung begins to laugh when you start to tickle Jimin in the sweet spots, causing Jimin to curl his leg around your ankle and pull you onto his lap for a hair pull. It’s all in fun and nothing hurts, but you’re so caught up in it you’re sure people are worried about your well-being. Even Jungkook is laughing, egging Jimin on while Taehyung weakly attempts to pull you away. 

If you could rewrite the last ten years of your life, this moment would define the remake. 

“Why are we here?” 

“For research purposes.” 

“Are you sure the actual purpose is because you don’t feel like working in the office?” 

“Jungkook,” you groan, tired of his infinite amount of negativity. “This was our senior trip! Of course I want to get a couple shots in before my big presentation.” 

“You’re risking my baby’s life,” Jungkook cradles the digital camera closer to his chest, swaddling it between its felt case. Ever since you purchased the camera, Jungkook has been unable to let it go. This adoption is both equal parts cute and strange, and you’re a little too scared to ask for it back. 

“I promise, no big rides,” you roll your eyes, “your baby will be fine.” 

The local amusement park is a fan-favorite amongst the city-goers, a reprieve from the hustle and a chance for you to spend your copious amounts of money on overpriced sugar and popcorn. The last time you went here was two weeks ago—in your mind. In Jungkook’s mind it was over ten years ago and he probably doesn’t even remember the time spent roaming the artificial floor and the infinite amount of bubbles that seem to eject from the air to add to the whimsical charm. 

Jungkook isn’t even paying attention, citing it as an artist block because he’s going through sensory overload with the amount of stimuli in the crowd. Screaming teenagers wailing under him from a nearby rollercoaster, the smell of sticky caramel apples pumping through the diffuser stands, and the amount of gaudy color that decorates every single logo of the park. 

He plops himself down on a nearby bench while you wait in line to get some food. It’s early in the morning and a weekday, so you figure this is the best time to get some photographs in without any passerbys. You figure Jungkook will get the hang of it once he has some food in his stomach. 

“A funnel cake?” Jungkook is bewildered when you return with the confection in hand, “it’s ten A.M.” 

You raise a brow, knowing how much Jungkook loves sweet foods. The funnel cake especially, he ate at least three when you went to your senior trip, one for every meal. But you’re an adult, or at least posing as one, and you shrug loftily, plucking a hot piece of fried dough from your plate. “Alright then,” you reply, “I’ll just eat the whole thing.” 

Once the cake touches your tongue, you can’t help but make an exaggerated moan in pleasure. You can feel Jungkook squirming like an earthworm next to you, either from the scrumptious smell of funnel cake or the way you’re so enthusiastically eating it. 

“W-wait,” Jungkook’s stomach growls at the perfect moment, “I want some. But I don’t want to get the camera dirty, pass me a napkin.” 

“I can just feed it to you!” you quip innocently, immediately ripping off a piece and shoving it between Jungkook’s pink lips. You feel a little slick in the finger, saliva briefly coating your digits before you pull away. You swallow, feeling a familiar tingle in your tummy and a sickening heat low in your belly. 

You fight back a sigh, wondering if your libido also did a massive growth spurt in your twenty-seven years of age. 

Jungkook is placated at the touch of food, and you take turns feeding yourself and feeding him while more customers trickle in the park. Confectioners sugar dusts Jungkook’s long-sleeved tee, the white color staining the dark fabric. You reach to pat his chest, ignoring the toneness that still remains from high school. 

“Alright, let’s ride,” you declare, pulling Jungkook up once you’re done eating. 

“Do we have to?” 

“What happened to the adrenaline junkie I once knew?” 

“He realized being an adrenaline junkie doesn’t make money and he should stay on the ground.” 

“Alright, Negative Nancy,” your reply has no bite to it, and suddenly you wished you invited Jimin or Seokjin before Jungkook. Jungkook may have the talent, but he certainly doesn’t have the attitude. You don’t even get why he’s still defensive, after all you thought he apologized in the beginning. It’s not like you’re the problem. 

“Gimmie your hand,” your thoughts cut out when Jungkook offers his large hand in front of yours, palm up. 

“Why?”

“C’mon,” he whines, settling for snatching your hand instead. His palms feel larger, rougher as they enclose your smaller hand. “Now hurry up and walk in front of me. I’m gonna take a picture.” 

You already have a feeling as to what this picture is going to look like, so you scrunch your nose. “That is so cheesy.” 

“It’s for the nostalgia factor, now hurry up and pretend we’re on a date.” 

You roll your eyes but relent, jogging a few steps ahead so you can get into character. This pose used to be a popular one, where the sweet boyfriend would be dragged around by the girlfriend’s hand, tugging him to wherever she wanted to go. It’s super cliche but if Jungkook figures it’ll fit your theme, you’ll do it. Eventually you forget that you’re holding his hand, and point ahead to some rides you want to try out. 

“Oh, Jungkook! Remember that one?” you point to a teacup ride, with guests spinning vigorously through their own seat. “Jimin got so sick he fell asleep in the car for an hour!” 

Jungkook doesn’t reply, so you turn around and face him. Click. Jungkook smirks at his little trick, which makes you rip your hand from his and walk further. 

“Hey, hey,” he chuckles, the first smile of the day. Food really does make him peaceful. “The shot looks good, you look good.” 

“Could’ve just asked me to turn around and pose,” you huff. 

“Then it would ruin the fun,” he replies, “now c’mon, let’s ride the teacups. For old time’s sake.” 

Ten minutes later and the both of you are soon regretting that decision. You’re once again slumped on the bench, this time unable to keep your head up so you rest it on Jungkook’s shoulder while he leans on your head. 

“Haven’t rode that since I was a teenager,” Jungkook moans, holding his stomach. “Remind me not to eat so fast before getting on that kind of ride.” 

You mirror his expression, feeling green. “Is this what late-adult life feels like?” 

“Yep,” Jungkook replies, unbeknownst of how shocked you are at how weak your body has become. “You wake up with back pain, pre-arthritis from all the typing you’ve done over the last decade, and a lot of stress. Definitely not the fantasy you’d imagine from your 20s.” 

“You think you’d be less stressed if you kept your lacrosse scholarship?” 

“Nah, I think I saved myself,” Jungkook shakes his head, “before I could be any more awful than I already was.” 

You refuse that notion, sending him a bitter smile. “Well, look at me. I became awful right after high school.” 

“I didn’t mean you—”

“I know,” you hold up a hand to stop him. The two of you follow a red path up the hill, leading to a simple cable car ride. It’s a slow travel ride, made to get from one side of the park to the other with a beautiful view over the lake. “But you see those tabloid articles. They must be true.” 

“I—I didn’t think they were all true,” Jungkook’s lying through his teeth to make you feel better, but you don’t care. “Why do you sound unsure?” 

You shrug, “Probably wasn’t sober for most of my bad decisions,” considering your friendship with Seokjin and his boisterous drinking attitude, you wouldn’t be surprised, “If they weren’t true, I believe Jimin and I would’ve stayed friends. I can’t imagine why I left my home like that. But I guess it doesn’t matter too much because I came back. And I mean, we’re here together doing work,” you gesture between the small space between each other, “I think that counts for something.”  

The two of you walk in silence for a bit, contemplating. The line to the cable car isn’t long but it’s slow, considering the cable only moves a couple meters a second. The take-off area is a risen slab of concrete, and the cars are continuously moving so you have to hop on one car as soon as another guest exits. 

There’s a little bit of space between it, a centimeter gap that could be nerve wracking if there’s no staff around. You think nothing of it as you fiddle on your phone, waiting for the staff member to let you and Jungkook in on the next car. 

Jungkook enters first, taking great care to cradle the camera in one hand so it doesn’t sway against the car. The car swings a little as well, and Jungkook holds out a hand for you to grab. 

Instead you focus on how the once bright glassy pink is sun-ravished, faded and rusting on the metal door flaps. The color is almost pearlescent, vastly different than the vivid color you saw two weeks ago. You almost want to reach out and touch it, wondering where that quality went. 

“Bun, be careful!” 

The tip of your heel nicks on the stepping stone, slipping like butter as you topple forward. Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to scoop you up, hauling you into the car just as the metal door locks into place. The hard plastic of the camera digs into your chest uncomfortably as you plop on top of Jungkook, between his legs as half his thighs rest against the uncomfortable seat. 

“Were you not watching where you were going?” Jungkook huffs, blowing his bangs over his forehead. 

Instead of an artful answer you blurt, “You, you called me Bun.” 

His eyes widen at your response, and his grip loosens around your body. His eyes dart anywhere but your face, his cheeks ruddied and stained coral as he moves to remove you from his body. “It was a slip of the tongue,” he coughs, turning on his camera and getting shots of the lake. 

You huff in response, sticking to your side of the carriage. “I missed it,” you murmur to the wind, although you make yourself loud enough for him to hear. 

You try to bury your sour expression in your sleeves, just to hide how absolutely childish you feel. You don’t even care that Jungkook is trying to take pictures of you looking out the view, only trying to eradicate the feelings that are still down deep in your blood. Even the twenty-seven year old Jungkook is charming, albeit in a completely different way. 

The grown, mature Jungkook toots to his own horn. He isn’t concerned about a team or an image, and gave it all up to pursue an art he loves. The lacrosse jerseys exchanged for bulky long sleeves, the sport for a camera, and a mask for his true image. 

“Let’s go,” Jungkook takes your hand again when the ride stops, not letting go until you’re on steady ground. You figure he must think you walk like a toddler barely on her first mile. 

Would Jungkook like you even as an adult? With all this money, this power and this confidence you envisioned as a seventeen-year-old, it still doesn’t feel enough for him. In fact, you feel like a sore thumb sticking out, decorated in silly rumors and expensive clothes that separate you far from your roots. 

“Hey,” Jungkook touches your arm, pointing to a basketball carnival game, “remember this one?” 

“Yeah,” forcing a smile, you follow him to the small crowd that starts to form around the basketball game. The baskets are a short distance from the player, but so high up that it’s hard to tell the shape of the hoop. “I tried to tell you that it was completely rigged. From an angle you can see it’s still oval-shaped.” 

“And I told you it didn’t matter if the hoop was an octagon, I’d get you that prize,” he jerks a thumb to the prize booth, where a blue Piplup plush sits proudly with all the other starter Pokemon. “And I did.” 

“It’s still in my room,” you reply proudly, even though Jungkook is acting almost immaturely smug. “I, I mean it’s still in my room in my parent’s house. It’s probably lonely because my parents have been on a cruise for almost two weeks.” 

He raises a brow, eyes drifting to the booth. “Should I win another one to keep your bed in the city warm?” 

“That sounded oddly sexual.” 

“You know what I mean,” and Jungkook’s rolling up his sleeves, handing you the camera. 

“Jungkook,” you whine when he pulls out a roll of bills from his pocket, as if he prepared for this moment, “Jungkook c’mon—I don’t need any stuffed animals. Ugh.” 

You swear that the majority of your day is spent watching Jungkook blow cash on a low-quality stuffed animal with packaging pellets for the inside. Turns out carnival technology has also enhanced over the years, and it takes both your whining and the clerk’s whining to stop Jungkook from blowing his entire wallet to get one basket in. Eventually the staff relents and lets Jungkook take a Piplup keychain instead, glumly handing it over to you. 

“I like this better,” you chirp, clipping the ring onto your car keys, “now I can bring Piplup everywhere.” 

A small, barely there smile appears on Jungkook’s face. 

The rest of the day melts away like that, and before you know it the sun is slipping into the horizon and you’re being dropped off at your apartment. Jungkook even insists to walk you to your door, because your prizes are heavy. (Yes, he went back for the oversized Piplup.) 

It’s all too familiar, the way the walk upstairs is achingly slow, as if the moment is stretching itself down the hallway. How Jungkook looks so prideful holding the fruits of his labor, following you with a tug of your hand because the prize is too big for Jungkook to see straight. 

At the same time it’s different. The way you wobble around the hallway because you’re a little tipsy from wine flights is noticeable, even cute. How easy it is to not feel nervous when you clutch at his hand. How you two look like a seasoned couple, coming home from an all-day date. 

It ends at the front door, and you crack it open so you can slip your prizes through the crack. 

“Thanks, Jungkook,” you hold up the SD card that held all the precious memories of this week. 

This is where you part ways. You’ll spend the rest of the night editing your presentation, while Jungkook promised to go to a bar with his friends. A little part of you hoped you’d be invited, but you knew that would be impractical considering you have work in the morning. 

“Break a leg,” he says, leaning on the balls of his feet with his hands in his pockets, “you’ll do great. You’ve always been meant to do great things.” 

The investment he lays on you is insurmountable, and you feel yourself flush with simultaneous excitement and anxiety. Unknowing how to calm your nerves, you give him a small “thank you” and put your hand on the knob to slip away. 

“Wait—” 

You blink, a deer in the headlights as Jungkook swoops down and kisses you. 

You’ve received kisses—kisses reserved for a twenty-seven year old, before. Seokjin is an eager lover, and you felt it that fateful morning and even during your photoshoot when he tried to be sneaky and pull you away. Fleeting bites, kisses to the neck that are wet and hot.

Jungkook’s kiss does not feel like that. It feels like home. It feels like coming home after a long day of work, wrapping yourself in an old afghan and a hot cup of tea. The feeling of hot laundry, fresh front the dryer and smelling of floral softener. It tastes like ten years lost in a void, returning to your senses and lighting you up.

He holds you as if you’ll disappear right in front of him. Large hands cup your face, like a precious thing he never wants to let go. Your hands can do nothing but grapple after his, nails digging into his skin. 

“Good night, Jungkook,” you send him a lovestruck smile, a puppy love face. 

“Good bye, Bun,” he replies simply, jogging down the hallway. 

Being twenty-seven starts to feel a little more like heaven. 

Jennie used to annoy you in high school, but now she just down right scares you. 

Her presentation is one straight out of a thriller, with red shadow lights and neon green splattered in the dark room. Her models are intense, her designs are beautiful but overwhelmingly chaotic, and the whole affair is rather grotesque. The headline Fashion Suicide glares at you in a morbid scarlet font. 

Hoseok sends her a tight-lipped smile, and presses a button on his desk. “I need my antacids, Krystal,” Hoseok deadpans. 

Nothing betrays Jennie’s wicked expression, in fact her smirk widens at Hoseok’s fear. 

You on the other hand, are cool as a cucumber when you walk up to the front of the conference room. In fact, you barely have to say anything as the presentation presents itself. Jungkook took the liberty of making a video compilation for you, one that they could use in YouTube and Instagram promotions. 

“This, is preserving our youth,” you declare proudly, letting the video play. The music that accompanies it is very coming-of-age, like a yearbook slideshow of all the pictures you took. Taehyung, Jimin and Seokjin hold their arms around each other in matching attire, looking like friends for life. There’s even some videos of you and Jungkook at the park, playfully arguing at each other. “I’m tired of seeing people who could care less about my life, who I can’t relate to.” 

“This issue is for the unsung heroes—my best friend’s older sibling, the captain of the football team, and the black sheep with a dream.” 

The video cuts to Jungkook, looking ultra cool at the camera while he’s dictating Seokjin’s moves. It was taken on your phone, and you’re zooming in on Jungkook’s serious face before it breaks into a laugh, eyes crinkling and bunny teeth showing at whatever stupid thing Seokjin said. 

And finally, the video fades into a mock cover. The five of you are beaming at the camera, cheek-to-cheek as you hold up the placard: Ego: Class of Youth. 

Needless to say, the issue is yours. 

You ignore Jennie’s icy stare as you leave the room to negotiate with the creative teams on a set schedule. However, it seems that you can’t get a bit of rest when Jennie waits for you in your office.

“Jennie, get off of my desk,” you frown, watching a coffin-tipped nail flicking against a photograph of you holding hands with Jungkook in the amusement park. It hangs on a corkboard, standing up with all the other ideas that you and Jungkook have spent the last week meticulously planning.The black enamel scratches at your smiling face. You are not having this, not after all your hard work and all the meetings that have just been planned. 

Her feet dangle in the air, kicking back and forth as she sings your name. “You’re still such a child,” she sighs dramatically. “In fact, I think your cute little-wittle idea would suit something more like Highlights or Disney Monthly.”

“You’re just upset I did better than you,” you cross your arms.

Jennie’s nail slices your visage in half. 

“You’re right,” Jennie turns a 180 and gives you a bright, candy-coated smile. “Your idea is so good, it doesn’t suit Ego. In fact, I’m sure the editors at Mono will pay a pretty penny.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Ugh, you are such a fake.” Jennie giggles, “now, did you send this idea to Namjoon yet? Their publishing date is two weeks before ours, so I’m sure they’re getting to work on this whole Throwback Thursday spread.” 

You can’t believe the words coming from Jennie’s mouth. Before all of this, just how awful of a person were you? How could you sabotage your company on the regular, just to get paid a little extra dough for a rival company? It makes you think about what could’ve possibly changed. Had leaving your friends without a care in the world made you into this lost adult, grappling at the seams for attention? In college, did Jennie coerce you into being manipulative and backstabbing, and because without Jimin and needing confidence in a friend, you reluctantly agreed?

The coffee from this morning starts to back up in your throat, but you immediately tamp it down. No, you can’t be pushed around like this. You can’t keep pushing people around. You don’t want a life like this, and if you ever return to your old life, you’ll damn make sure you’ll create a future without Jennie in the picture. 

“I’m not going to send anything to Mono, and I’ve already fessed up to Hoseok,” you lift your nose in the air, voice impeccably clear for someone who’s absolutely bluffing. But Jennie’s face hits the ground, immediately buying your lie. You suppose you did become a good actress after ten years. Maybe Seokjin taught you a few pointers. “So if I were you, I’d swallow your tongue before words get around. I worked it out but don’t be surprised if a pink slip comes your way.” 

Turns out that no matter what, high school never ends. There will always be backstabbers and freaks and geeks. A mean girl that you subconsciously try so hard to appease, a grade that defines your life, and drama up to the neck. 

“He doesn’t like you, y’know,” Jennie whispers, but the words are loud and clear and you know exactly who she’s talking about. “Never had, and never will.” 

“You’re wrong,” you hold your hands, clasping them together to keep them from trembling, “he likes me.” 

So you leave the office, determined to prove yourself. That kiss last night was nothing short of magical, and it took a lot of strength for you to not drive up to Jungkook’s apartment in the morning in the hopes for another one. You pick up a pizza near his place, filling it up with your favorite toppings on one half and his favorites on his. A bottle of peach champagne is nestled between your arms. In the bathroom while waiting for your pizza, you’ve wriggled out of your tight suit and into a blue hoodie and bicycle shorts. Tonight, you’re celebrating. 

You’re vibrating as you’re knocking eagerly on his front door, excited to tell him the news. You hear a rustle from the couch, and some blankets shifting about. He must’ve passed out after going to the bar, how cute. 

But when the door opens, the vision in front of you is far from cute.

A woman, with cat eyes and a slim figure, tilts her head at you. She’s dressed in a large white shirt, transparent enough to show her lacy black bra and panties. Bruises decorate her neck and thighs, like red and purple gems. Her long black hair swishes, slightly frizzy at the bottom. 

“Can I help you?” her voice is sultry and velvety. “Are you looking for JK?” 

It’s obvious as to what transpired. Jungkook dipped after kissing you and fucked another woman. A woman who’s the complete opposite of you. Someone flirty and sexy and willing to give Jungkook what he wants. You don’t know who you should be mad at. 

“Who’s at the door?” Jungkook calls from the inside, and you nearly drop your bottle at the sound of the rasp. They must’ve had a fuckfest if they’re just waking up now.

Your cheeks are burning. Your heart is aching. And the vile that bubbled up from Jennie’s tirade is now resurfacing. From the way your eyes are watering, you must look like a crybaby. 

“Say, JK,” the woman closes the frame tighter around her small head, preventing you from seeing inside and for Jungkook to peer, “do you have any pathetic ex-girlfriends?” 

“No,” comes the muffled reply, “come back to bed, it’s getting cold without you,” the pizza starts to burn uncomfortably against your grip, “why the random question?” 

“Dunno, seems like you’ve had at least one.” 

At that moment, your savior appears in grey jeans and a beige hoodie. Jimin walks up to the floor, clutching a bag of groceries. It’s not hard to put two and two together as he spots you looking incredibly small in front of the strange woman, trying so hard not to break down. 

Your tears finally fall when Jimin reaches you. “Wrong room,” you mutter under your breath, quickly following your old best friend when he shoves you in his apartment. 

No words need to be explained when Jimin leaves the groceries on the coffee table and he’s pulling you onto his lap. You clutch him like a koala, rubbing mascara and blush all over his clothes as you sob. He pats your back and soothes your hiccups by offering you a glass of water. The stages of your meltdowns are pretty cut and dry, even after ten years. He still encourages you to finish the whole glass. He makes sure you have something to eat. He cuts your pizza into little bite sized pieces and feeds you. He doesn’t pressure you to talk until you’re ready, although he has a hunch as to what’s going on. 

And when you talk, he doesn’t expect a firm, “Take me home,” from you. 

“O-okay,” Jimin agrees immediately, pulling you into a sitting position. “Uptown, right? We can call an Uber or something and order from a restaurant.” 

“No,” you reply firmly, “Home-home. I want to go back to my parent’s house.” 

“That’s fine too,” he squeezes your shoulder, accepting the fob you hold out to him, “it’ll take about an hour, but I think the drive will be nice.” 

So you two sneak off into the sunset, clutching twin slices of pizza as you roll away into your Tesla. Jimin is right, ten minutes into the drive and you’re soothed by his smooth driving and the scent of fried cheese and dough. Your friend has been calm all this time, so you figure this is the right time for him to pop off. Again, this is also part of your breakdown routine. 

“Say, does this thing do calls?” Jimin asks, fiddling with the settings on your steering wheel, “Tesla, call Jeon Jungkook.” 

“Jimin,” you say weakly, although the little malicious side of you wants to goad him on. You don’t bother to fight the best friend territorialism, you just watch as his hands clutch at the steering wheel as the speakers ring. 

Jungkook picks up on the second ring, “Hey!” he says brightly, and it makes your chest pang to know how oblivious he is, “how did the presentation go?” 

“Fuck you, Jungkook!” you cover your free hand on your ear at Jimin’s shrill yell, louder than the speakers that carry Jungkook’s voice. “Fuck you for breaking my best friend’s heart twice!” 

The silence is deafening. It’s scary, like you could slash a butter knife right through the tension. 

Jimin continues, “I can understand high school because you were a real doofus, but this! You fucking lead my best friend on, only to fuck another girl right under her nose! She came all the way to your apartment from a long-ass day at work to celebrate and you ruin that day! I thought you’ve grown for the better but turns out nothing has changed since prom night. You’re still the stupid, confused little boy that doesn’t want to admit how they really feel,” you gasp at the blow, watching Jimin’s gritted teeth as he zooms down the freeway on a mission. “Good fucking riddance, Jeon!” 

Jimin punches the “hang up” button. A couple seconds of heavy breathing, and he turns to you with a gentle smile. 

“So, you want to listen to Taylor Swift’s new album?” 

Your room is lost in time. The Hunger Games novels are stacked on your shelf, looking old and worn. A Glee poster hangs over your four-poster bed, the yellow and red faded and the corners hanging by a thread from the old tape. The sheets are a pale pink, ruffly and definitely not in style anymore. When you sit on it, it creaks uncomfortably. 

You hug yourself, tucking your knees in as Jimin marvels at the room with an equal amount of awe. 

“If you could, would you go back to high school?” Jimin asks, sitting at the edge of your bed. 

With a lazy shrug, you smile at your collection of polaroids that are hanging above your vanity. You’re still hurt, but the pain is no longer rolling in waves. “Maybe,” you reply, “probably would’ve taken you to Europe with me.” 

He chuckles, “Is that the only thing you would change?” 

“If I knew what I knew now?” you tilt your head, “I don’t know.” 

Jimin gets off your bed, pressing a kiss into your forehead. “I’m gonna raid the kitchen and see if we can make something for dinner, yeah? Since your parents are on vacation and your fridge is probably empty, don’t  judge me if there’s only Totino’s pizza rolls and nuggets in the freezer.” 

When Jimin leaves your room, you quietly close the door and lock it. You lean against the cracked wooden door, falling onto the carpet and letting the tears fall. Is this what the rest of your life is going to be like? Evading pain and working too hard and trying everyday to stay afloat? Is adult life always going to be this difficult?  

These past two weeks have been nothing short of a rollercoaster. Major highs and major lows, and after today you thought you reached the end of the ride. However, it’s looking like the ride has no destination in mind, rolling in waves and finding a new hill or loop to catch you off-guard. 

“Are you kidding—how did you know we were here?” Another corkscrew. 

“You’re a turtle on the road, Jimin. Now move out of the way.” 

Jungkook’s voice startles you, and you tense when you see the gold door knob jiggle. Of course as strong as Jimin is, he’s no match for Jungkook. You hear Jimin grumble to curse Jungkook out, and the sound of him stomping down the stairs. 

“Hey, open up. Please,” Jungkook’s voice is weak and strained, and you only hug yourself tighter as the knocks continue. “Or, don’t. It seems like you can listen to me perfectly from here. I can hear your breathing.” 

You don’t say a peep, preferring to let everything fizzle out. Hopefully Jungkook will give up, say a pathetic sorry and be on his merry way. You don’t know why he’s followed you all the way over here, why would he bother coming when the damage is already done. 

There’s a slide of fabric across wood, and you can feel the door shake against your back as Jungkook leans on his side out in the hallway. 

“Back in high school, Jennie proposed that I date you to get back at you for stealing Jennie’s sewing sample and getting the higher grade,” you close your eyes, letting the story unravel. “She wanted to build you up before breaking you down, and back then I was vulnerable and thrived on attention, so I thought nothing of it.” 

You hear a breathy exhale from his side, as if it pains him to continue, “But obviously, it wasn’t true and I only realized it until I was way too deep. I liked you, so much. Heck, I think I might’ve loved you. We were so wrapped up in this relationship I even convinced myself it was real, until Jennie said she’d crush you at prom night.

“I should’ve tried harder to convince us not to go. I should’ve told Jennie to fuck off. I should’ve come clean. I should’ve done something,” his fist bangs against your door, the vibrations of the impact thrumming in your back, “seeing you so beautiful in that dress all heartbroken because I didn’t act sooner. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Hearing him pour his heart out is like watching your memories in his shoes. The pieces find homes and paint a picture left unfinished. 

“And then when you showed up at my doorstep, I was so angry. I knew you felt it. But I wasn’t upset at you, I was upset at myself. I felt so fucking guilty. I hated how easy it was for you to let me back into your life. I hated how easy it was to fall for you all over again. I knew how much I didn’t deserve your forgiveness, but you gave it to me and I was too selfish to refuse. I had so much fun, the most fun I’ve had in awhile. 

“I’m sorry I kissed you. I didn’t intend for it to I just, I couldn’t help myself. And then I was so scared that I turned away and made the second biggest regret to date.

“But it proves that we’re not meant to be together. I don’t deserve you,” the last part is hushed, a nail in the coffin, “we can’t turn back the time, but if I could I would change it all. I would be by your side and make your world even better than it is right now. I’m sorry it’s too late.” 

You clutch your mouth, suppressing the cries that muffle through the door. You hear Jungkook get up from your old carpet, turn the other way and head downstairs. 

Your first love just closed the chapter for you. His words show how much he cared for you, but didn’t know how to express it. How immature he was, how he realized everything too late. And now, he wants to set you free. Even if it is a good thing, it still tears you to shreds. 

Moving to your vanity, you pull out the chair and lean your head on the table, eyes poking through your hair. You look awful. The skin under your waterline is puffy and your eyes are red and bloodshot. Your forearms feel greasy, and you lift them up to reveal glitter painting the entirety of your skin. Your eyes dart to the open glitter, the package that Jimin gifted to you that fateful prom night. The compact is broken in half and left on the table, probably a product of your younger cousins fiddling through your old room. 

Ignoring the sticky feeling, you let yourself continue to cry. You feel like you’re stuck in the bathroom of the prom venue, waiting for an opportunity to sneak out and go. 

But you want nothing more than to go back to that moment. As amazing as your twenty-seven year old life is, you’re not ready for it. You don’t want a life without Jungkook, or a life having to constantly catch up and mend your relationship with Jimin. You don’t want to be the backstabbing bitch that tips off other magazines, or the two-faced woman who messes around with others for the sake of pleasure.

You long to go back. You long to live and grow. To be seventeen and have time to grow in-between. 

When you lift your head from your vanity, you’re ten years younger.

You scream. 

Your parents dash to your room with a kitchen knife and a confused face. With a wary smile and a teary gaze you say that it’s only a pimple. Your mother giggles and drops the knife, hugging you and helping you conceal the invisible mark. The hug is so warm and so missed that you nearly sigh in content. You’ve missed them. 

It’s a little strange to think well beyond your years, your brain still reeling from the trip you’ve just had. Your hands smooth over your body, the previous curves and maturity hidden away in your skin. That’s okay, you don’t mind waiting anymore. There’s much more important things at hand. 

If Jungkook isn’t going to realize his mistakes until it’s too late, you have to speed up the process. 

Stealing your parent’s keys and hopping in your Accord, you drive off to Jungkook’s. Hair and makeup not done, and still in your plain shirt and jeans. An hour from now, Jungkook will text you saying his car is down and he’ll meet you at the venue. 

It’s still rush hour, so he doesn’t notice when you park a few houses down. He’s sitting on his front porch, looking out the road. There’s really nothing in front of him, he’s just staring aimlessly, probably nervous about what’s about to go down tonight. You suppress a sigh, engraving the vision to memory. He looks great in his fitted black suit and tie, a little silver pocket square on the breast to match your dress. 

He gets up quickly when he sees you, as if caught in the act. Staring at your plain clothes he asks, “Bun, why aren’t you dressed? Prom’s soon—”

“Jungkook, I want to break up.” 

You see it in his eyes. Vulnerability. No longer do you feel insecure, the future told you that Jungkook genuinely did care for you back then. Or in this case, right now. His usual cheery expression crumples at your feet, and his hands fall at his sides. It feels a little unfair, knowing that you have experience under your belt, and Jungkook’s experiencing these feelings for the first time, unprepared. 

“What?” he wilts, “why?” 

“I know about Jennie’s plan,” you say instantly, unfazed. You give him a tight-lipped smile when realization hits his face. “So I know this whole relationship is orchestrated. The sewing sample fiasco is wrong, obviously. But I’m not going to get mad at you, I know she played you as much as she played me,” you clasp the straps of your purse, stopping you from fidgeting, “we graduate in a few months anyway. We don’t have to see or talk about this ever again. You should go enjoy your prom night with your other friends.” 

The present-day Jungkook is still young and confused. He’s at a loss, looking like he’s on sensory overload as he absorbs all the information. You see his eyes flicker to where your Accord is parked, your prom dress hanging on one of the arm pulls. You never even pulled it out of the bag. 

“Here,” you pull his corsage from your purse, placing the white rose atop the porch. If you try to put it on him, you fear you may never leave. With a determined huff, you turn around in the direction of your car.

“Where are you going?” he asks, clutching the railing of his porch, “what about prom?” 

“I have other plans,” you shrug over your shoulder, “have a good night.” 

You don’t look back, although you feel Jungkook’s stare burning in your head. You take great care in going into drive and punching in a new destination in your clunky GPS. This time you have to do things one at a time, once you get your Tesla ten years from now, you’re sure this process will be much easier. 

Jimin’s family comes out of the airport, looking impeccable as always. Ten years younger, with puffy cherub cheeks and bright eyes. To your surprise (but also all things considered, it’s Jimin), your best friend comes out in a three-piece suit. It’s burgundy, and suits his dark hair well. He places his luggage into your car, hugs his family good-bye and waits for them to depart in their cab. 

“You are all dressed up, and for what,” you chuckle, driving out of the airport.

“Well, when you sent that voicemail that you’d be waiting for me, I changed in the bathroom,” Jimin quips, already fiddling with your radio to play some poppy overplayed music, “but why aren’t you dressed? I thought we were going to be fashionably late to prom. Spill.”

“Hm, let’s talk about it in the morning. I wanna enjoy my prom night,” and you reach over to ruffle Jimin’s soft black strands, “y’know, you’d look really sexy as a blond.” 

He pulls down your mirror, positioning it over his face. Pursing his plush lips, he tilts his head. “Yeah, maybe when I’m older,” he grins at his reflection, “so if we’re not going to prom, let’s go get pizza.” 

So the two of you get pizza. But not before you take your prom pictures. Your parents meet you at the park with their old digital camera, ready for your impromptu photoshoot. Jimin uses an old tarp to cover the car up while you change in the car, shimmying in your sparkly silver tulle dress. Your hair is held up and away from your face, looking clean enough to be presentable as you pose for the camera. The two of you pick yellow dandelions from the grass, matching flowers as last minute dates. Your parents coo and are happy for you, knowing that even if you don’t attend the actual dance, the pictures will last forever and you’ll smile at them for years. 

Eventually you tell Jimin about Jungkook and the whole fiasco (sans the ten year mental time jump.) The reaction is expected, Jimin says he wants to fuck Jungkook up. Surprisingly for him, he doesn’t have to do much to console you. In fact, you sip coolly from your smoothie and say Jungkook will probably let Jimin get a punch in even though Jungkook can bench press his tiny body in half. But you tell him you’re okay, and all you want to do is go home and binge watch. 

Jimin carries the pie in his lap while you pull up your driveway. The smell of toasty cheese and fresh dough fill your car. 

“I want to watch Sky City,” Jimin sing-songs, “Kim Seokjin is God’s gift!” 

You crinkle your nose, “He’s alright.” 

“What! You thought he was so hot like, last week.” 

“Things change.” 

Jimin makes it to your room first, saying he’ll take care of setting things up. He’ll probably steal all the available cushions and make a fort for himself while he puts a picnic blanket on the floor in front of your television. You can imagine him hogging all your stuffed animals, placing it on his side of the carpet while he rifles through your drawers so he can change out of his suit. 

Your parents tell you to take out the trash before you have fun tonight. Careful not to get your dress dirty, you hold it away from your body as you waddle out the front door. You make it two steps into the driveway before the soggy trash bag is whisked from your hands.

“I got it,” Jungkook says quietly, and it takes little to no effort for him to haul the large bag into the waiting trash can. His shoulders are slumped under his white button-up, his suit jacket probably stuffed somewhere in the back of the car. 

“Jungkook,” you reply, dumbfounded, “it’s only eight, prom isn’t even over yet.” 

“I know… but then I realized you weren’t gonna get your money’s worth if you didn’t go. I asked the waitress if she could get me a doggie bag for my date and,” he holds up a stapled bag, presumably the dinner that was supposed to be served, “it’s your favorite.” 

“Thank you,” you give him a small, grateful smile as you accept the bag. “But that doesn’t explain why you’re here.” 

He bites his lip, stuffing his hands in his dress pockets. “A-and you told me before you left that I should go spend prom night with my friends,” he ruffles his hair, blown out of the pomade and falling into his eyes, “and then I realized that you were right. Jennie and all those people out there aren’t really my friends. They like my rep and they like my attention, but they don’t like me.” 

You shake your head, “Jungkook, you’re very likable. Jennie and her group are just one bad bunch.” 

“But I don’t wanna be liked by my rep. I wanna be liked for the things I love,” he steps a hesitant step towards you, and he relaxes when he sees that you don’t recoil, “I haven’t told anyone this. But I want to drop that sports scholarship. I applied to an art school, and I got in.” 

Suppressing a grin with a bite of your lips, you cheer silently in your head. Things are changing. “I’m so happy for you, Jungkook. Congrats.” 

“And I’m sorry for all the fucked up things I did. Jennie may have manipulated me but I definitely was a big part of it,” Jungkook pulls the words out of the sky, finally having enough time to formulate an apology, “but please don’t doubt for a second that my feelings are fake. I really like you, and I wish we got to know each other under better circumstances.”

“I wish we could’ve,” you echo sadly. “But our futures—” 

“I don’t want to lose you.” 

“I liked you, so much. Heck, I think I might’ve loved you.”

You shake your head, frowning at his kicked puppy expression. “I’m considering a fashion school in Europe,” you reach for Jungkook’s hand, squeezing it. Letting him know that everything’s going to be okay. “You and Jimin can visit me during the breaks, Europe has some great spots to photograph.” 

Something in Jungkook’s gaze tells you that it’s not enough for him. He wants to be selfish and hold onto you tighter, but you know that’s not good for the both of you right now. “That’d be nice,” he says vaguely, giving you a pained smile. 

Jungkook rubs his thumb over your hand, relishing in the softness of your skin. “You look really pretty,” he says, looking forlornly over the dress. He can only imagine how ethereal you’d look under the fairy lights that decorated the venue, “I wish we could’ve had one dance.” 

You shrug, “The night’s still young,” you gesture to the space in the driveway, and the lights that overhead the garage. 

The slow Taylor Swift music that plays from his pocket is muffled, but it doesn’t deter either of you as he places his hands on your waist and you wrap his around his neck. You’re wearing your bunny house slippers and Jungkook’s neck is moist from his nervous sweats, but you know that this memory will be engraved in your brain for years to come. 

It feels good to know that from now on, you don’t have to be so concerned about the future now that you’ve had a taste of it. All you want now is to take it one day at a time. At this moment the, the only thing you want to do is focus on how you’re going to hold onto Jungkook for the last time. At least for now, who knows what will happen in the future. 

“I really want to kiss you, Bun,” he leans in, foreheads touching, “but I don’t deserve it.” 

“You’re right,” you tease, “you don’t.” 

He frowns playfully, “Ouch. But fair.” 

Yet you figure you’ve made enough headway these past few weeks, and you deserve to be a little selfish. One last kiss, you think to yourself. Your fingers flatten against the pressed material of his collar, meeting in the middle to clutch Jungkook’s slim black tie. Jungkook bites his lip, looking down at you for permission. With the tiniest of nods, you get on your tippy toe toes you lean forward and you can smell the apple cider lingering on his lips—

“Ohmygod—are you broken up or not!” both of you whip your heads up to see Jimin hanging over your open window, looking absolutely bored. His arms dangle over your sill, wearing a frayed high school jumper. “Either tell him to get lost or invite him over to watch television because I’m hungry!” 

You pull away from him fully, squeezing his biceps. “Want pizza?” 

He shakes his head, “I think it’s a trap. Jimin’s waiting for me to come up so he can rip my head off,” he gives a tentative wave to the second floor, but Jimin just scoffs and goes back inside, “but I’ll see you Monday.” 

“Okay. Good night, Kook.” 

“Good night, Bun.” 

Your heart pinches a little as you watch him drive away. Before, you knew what the end game was between you two. It didn’t end pretty. Now, you’re not so sure. At the very least, it isn’t ending on a sour note. 

Some time later.

“Your majesty,” you give her a practiced smile, taking careful measures not to brush the lady’s shoulders too hard in the fear she’ll whittle away, “emerald is an impeccable color on you.” 

The Queen of England (the McDuckin' Queen of England!) just laughs at you and waves you off. You can’t believe you’re photographing a real queen. This is like the childhood equivalent of meeting Malibu Barbie. You thank every single choice and mistake you’ve made in your entire life that has brought you up to this impeccable moment. She’s a vision, you could cry. In fact, you’ll cry later in the comfort of your hotel room. “Do you think the photographer will take long?” she asks, frowning, “I have drinks with my friends in an hour.” 

You smirk, pleased to know she’s still kicking it in her golden years. “Yeah, just so long as my husband doesn’t get distracted. Fifteen minutes, tops.” 

“I’m not distracted,” Jungkook huffs, pulling away from his tripod. He gives up on trying to stabilize the camera, instead preferring to go freehand for this one. He gives you an incredulous look, hands on his hips, “I have two queens in my viewfinder and I only got room for one. Get out of the shot, Bun.” 

With a playful roll of your eyes, you step away from the lady of the hour to let Jungkook do his thing. He’s right in his element, blurting choreographed poses and telling the lighting people to move at his beck and call to get the perfect angle. You stand a distance behind him, letting him take control. 

“I’m so hungry,” your whisper is low enough to blend between the jazz music, but loud enough for Jungkook’s ears to listen in, “please tell me you’re almost done.” 

“Oui, oui.” 

“Wrong language, Kook. Please don’t offend anyone,” and discreetly, you take one step closer in your Tory Burch flats, “did you get any candids of me and the Queen?” 

“Duh, Bun,” you can’t see his face but you know he’s grinning, “Jimin will faint.” 

"Oh, yes! Thank you, I love you," you gush, reaching over to discreetly pinch his butt. 

He shakes his head, looking over his shoulder to give you a brief smirk, "Show me how thankful you are tonight." 

So silly, you think. It's amazing how well you work together as two separate entities of a photoshoot yet share a brain cell in the presence of each other. In another world, Jungkook said if given the chance, he'd be by your side and make your world a better place. 

Ten years later, it's exactly that and more. 

#jungkook x reader #btswritingcafe #btsghostie #kwritersworldnet #jungkook fic #bts fic #bts fluff #bts angst

[mrpenguinpants]

Razor: Pre-Relationship HCs

THANK YOU SO MUCH ANON [if you’re still here haha]!! Razor is best boy! I can’t pet the dogs but I can pet Razor so therefore he is the best boy. I take no criticism and I’m taking it to my grave.

I’m just gonna make this part my appreciation post and @snowy224 I don’t understand why tumblr won’t let me @ you but you are such a real one it’s kind of insane. I’m almost scared actually but know that no matter how bad I’m feeling or how much I want to throw my fics into the garbage it’s always nice seeing you pop up 💕💕

---

Semi Part 1: General HCs

Semi Part 3: Cuddle HCs

Semi Part 4: Jealous HCs

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[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@hanniejji  @mikeysbike​ @unionwitch @musekala @twistedsunnshiii  @adoring-ghost @asheseiler  @snowy224 @youaskedfurret @childelover​ @xoneaboveallx​ @akaasea​ @stanzastic​

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Razor: Pre-Relationship HCs

You had first met the wolf boy when you had been attacked by a Mitachurl when you were collecting wolfhooks. He had jumped out of the bushes and saved you and ever since then you made sure to visit Wolvendom any chance you could get. Just to meet with the mysterious man and thank him somehow. It then developed into having friendly competitions in hunting and familiarizing yourself with how Razor’s life was and who he was as a person. It made you feel like a kid again, running around, getting mud on your clothes, and sleeping outside under the stars. You almost forgot how pretty the sky could be sometimes. 

It took a bit of time to get used to Razor’s affectionate nature and trying to reason that Razor had only known wolves his entire life, so there wasn’t anything deeper to when he wanted to hold your hand or nuzzle your cheek. It still made you flush pink since you never experienced this before but it was kind of nice. It felt comfortable to simply hold you hand out, wait for Razor to see you, perk up, walk over, and place his chin in the palm of your hand. The cute but sweet act always made you give a small giggle as you petted him and he nuzzled into your palm. 

That was until you started developing feelings for him. It just hit you one day when you saw Razor laugh so hard he was almost crying when you accidently slipped on some mud. He was usually pretty quiet and the only loud noises he made were howls with his lucipals. You stared at him for a couple of seconds before you caught yourself and laughed along with him. On your walk back home you kept thinking back to how happy Razor looked and proceeded to scream into your hands. You were starting to crush on someone who may not even know what a crush was. 

Now, every time he initiated some type of affection it sent your heart rate skyrocketing until you thought you would combust. You could feel the heat starting to overtake your cheeks and you went stiff in his hold whenever he wanted to snuggle together. Your different reactions only made Razor confused and it made him think you were sick or there was some type of danger nearby, which only prompted him to go into protect mode and made cupid himself take an axe and cleave your heart in half. 

Razor’s world is a simple one and yet that’s what makes it so complicated. At first he wanted to hold your hand because it was soft but now whenever he holds it his heart starts beating faster. When you both fall asleep under the stars he always stays awake a bit longer. Both to make sure you’re both not in danger but to also gaze at your features. After spending so much time together he started to feel weird. Whenever you had to go back home he wanted you to stay a bit longer and felt something tugging at his heart. Telling him to go after you but he was still nervous about the big city. 

So when you seemed to be shying away from his usual touches Razor couldn’t help but feel that he must have done something wrong. Did he accidently hurt you? Was there another custom in Mondstadt that he wasn’t aware of? It made him feel sad that you didn’t seem to want to spend time with him.

While you couldn’t sense the mood in the wind, it didn’t take a genius to realize that Razor seemed to be upset about something. His hair that you had at first mistaken as a wolf ear was turned down, his red eyes were sadden, and he looked like a kicked puppy or wolf in this case. It hurt your heart to see your friend so sadden so you quickly rushed over to where he was, dropping the things you had brought so you both could go out adventuring, to make sure he was okay.

“Razor? Are you alright? Did something happen? Are you hurt?” you quickly scrambled towards him and giving him a fast once-over to make sure he wasn’t bleeding anywhere. He only looked up at you with those same sadden eyes and you swore that you would protect his man with everything you had. 

“Do you...not like Razor?” Razor pouted up at you as he seemed to shuffle away from you. Not like him? Where did this come from? You slowly kneeled beside him frowning slightly as you reached over to pet him. He didn’t seem to shy away from your touch, in fact he almost seemed desperate for it. 

“What? Of course not Razor. Where did you get that idea?” you softly scratched behind his ear as you tried to remember if anyone in the city of freedom mention anything about a wolf boy or that they were heading to Wolvendom that might have upset Razor. 

“You. Don’t like being near me,” Razor confessed as he leaned harder into your touch, “This. Don’t do anymore” 

You suddenly dawned on you that he was right. You had been so focused on getting your feelings under control that it did seem like you wanted to scramble out of his hold. But it wasn’t because you didn’t like Razor. It was definitely the complete opposite but it came off wrong. You were mentally kicking yourself for your mess up as you slowly reached over to hold his hands. Something to keep both you and him stable.

“Oh, um...” You laughed awkwardly to yourself, “It’s not like that Razor. Um, how do I explain this..” 

You pondered to yourself and what the best and easiest way to explain that you really really wanted to hold his hand in a romantical sense. You wanted to be more than lucipals? That..didn’t seem right. Razor’s world was simple so the best way would be to say things simply. 

“You see Razor, whenever we’re together I get this feeling here,” you pressed his palm over your heart so he could feel how fast your heart was racing, “that means that I like you. A lot. So much that when you want to um, hold hands, it makes my heart go so fast that I need a minute to let it calm down. It’s not because I hate you, I don’t think I ever could. I just like you so much that I need  a second. If that makes sense...”

“Razor has that too!” Razor suddenly exclaimed as he proceeded to tackle you in his excitement as he took your own hand and placed it over his heart. You could feel his own heart rate racing at the same pace as yours. 

“Ah- I’m glad?” you stuttered as Razor peered down at you grinning. 

“So you won’t leave Razor?” Razor asked as you sighed amused. 

“Never.” You agreed as you watched Razor light up brighter than any star in the sky. Razor grinned down at you and you swore you could see a small wolf tail wagging. What have you gotten yourself into? You might need to check in with Barbara soon to make sure your heart wouldn’t collapse anytime soon. 

---

Okay. One more Xiao fic and I’m going to take a powernap, I’m so tired. I’m sorry Venti I will write you tmr. I think 3 posts a day is my limit so hopefully I can get to everyone in time. I’m about to go wake up, play alien isolation with friends, and scare the life out of me. Wish me luck! 

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin imagines #genshin fanfic #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin headcanons #genshin impact headcanons #genshin razor #genshin impact razor #genshin razor x reader #genshin impact razor x reader #razor x aether #razor x lumine #razor x reader #razor #razor headcanons #razor imagines

[enhyupn]

enhypen as characters inspired by animes ᯤ 

tagging @youreverydayzebra @ncityy04 @rheyom

ot7!enhypen x gn!reader, fluff, warnings: mentions of (jokingly) dying, swear words, reader’s in a maid outfit in jay’s one but no mentions of a certain gender, word count: 3.3k

a/n most of these aren’t the same as the animes mentioned but instead just inspired or loosely inspired by the plot! also some of these aren’t the same in word count and i apologise for that ]:

∷ heeseung — orange

heeseung as the new kid at school and he’s so pretty that everyone just. Stops in place and just stares at him as he introduces himself

funnily enough you already saw this coming, realising this was the same heeseung the letter you received that morning told you about

what was funnier was the fact that letter was coming from the future you

you didn’t believe it Then because like... it kinda sounds too stupid to be true

but then BOOM there heeseung is

your teacher makes him sit beside you and you’re just trying to wrap your head around how crazy all of this is

your letter even told you that he was going to sit beside you, why was all of this coming true????

you didn’t read on because you were in a rush to get to school but maybe if that letter warned you about how pretty he was, you wouldn’t of been that flustered when he started talking to you

“hey i’m heeseung!” “ummm yeah, i’m y/n... yeah”

when school ends you RACE home to get to that letter again

rest of heeseung + of the members under the cut!

your future self was gonna have a lot of explaining to do...

turns out the future you Let this same heeseung walk out of your life so now you have to fix this

“dear past me, i can’t believe i was this stupid to let him leave my life like this— how stupid am i??”

now you make it your mission to keep your barely started relationship not go rocky

and oh boy would that be a challenge for the years to come

not because heeseung’s a terrible bf, future you just gave terrible tips

everyday after that you and heeseung (like the letter said) turned into great friends

great friends as in friends that people think that are dating

soon that friendship became a relationship... and a very strong one to be honest

your letters were weirdly very accurate

a firework festival... how he confessed to you... all of it was in those letters

honestly you should scold them for letting heeseung get away!!

you secretly wanna tease them that YOU have heeseung by your side and they don’t but... you can’t really do that

you tell heeseung about the letters one day and he just. Stares at you in astonishment

because he also received letters on the same day you got them from future him too

turns out future you and heeseung both regret their decision

poor them but at least present you gets to kiss heeseung whenever you want 😇

not to spoil anything but heeseung didn’t end up walking out of your life <3 instead you two are now sickly in love

∷ jay — maid-sama

you work at a maid café mainly because you needed the money and honestly... it wasn’t even that bad of a job

i mean compared to your school president life — trying to keep teenage boys out of trouble — happily serving polite and friendly (most of the time) customers was definitely a steal

one boy in particular gave you a bit more trouble than the rest of them however

he wasn’t bad or anything, just... a serial heart breaker

jay park was always on your radar due to the fact so many people would go up to you asking you to tell him to be nicer with his rejections

he wasn’t complied to be nicer but 😍 what can you do

safe to say that you didn’t think you had the best relationship with him

you couldn’t understand him even more when you saw him prettily sitting at the tables at your work

may i add, with you in your very own maid outfit as well as a twitching eye

“y/n! looking great” “thanks m-ma-mas—” “your customer service is terrible”

and the fact he came every day after that day made you feel Terrified

and also a little excited to go to work but you’d never admit that!!!

having him stare at you while you cheerily wrote with ketchup on omelettes was... definitely not how you thought your relationship would be like

he would also make small talk too

and visit you after your shift!!! walking you home

now... his daily visits turned into genuine great conversations on the way home

you realised he wasn’t as bad as you made him out to be

he just had strong beliefs that he should only accept a confession if it’s from someone he loves

you didn’t know how... but now You Have Feelings For him.

and seeing him when smile at you every time you serve him at that little maid café... ARGGGG it drove you absolutely mad

the way he oozed out confidence... was sweet and quite literally the prettiest person you’ve ever seen... how could you not

and what other way to confess to him than at the very place your relationship blossomed at!

you wrote “i like you” with ketchup on fried rice for him... yeah

thankfully he was over the moon and Had to hold back kissing you in front of the customers

now you two were dating <3 with the help of a maid café

and that really only left you with one more question

“why did you start visiting this maid café in the first place?”

∷ jake — kimi no todoke

being the quiet student is never. a good thing

especially when you’re ostracised by your class because you never participate

you actually want to but you can’t build any confidence to do so

you never caught the attention of anyone

well... besides a certain popular boy by the name of jake sim

oh boy was this gonna be a culture shock to the girls that have a crush on him

he noticed you on the first day of school when you asked him for directions to your classroom

he won’t ever forget it, the way you had a huge excited smile on his face as the cherry blossoms fell softly around you

he quotes, it looked like you came straight out of heaven because it looked like you had wings on you

he didn’t know how to get your attention though.

every time he tried to do so you wouldn’t even look at him and would just look down at your desk

it hurt him to see you so isolated

that’s when he had the bright idea to ask you if you wanted to walk with him home

bad idea (kinda), because you did accept but you didn’t know what to do the whole time because you’ve never walked home with someone before

it was bad enough that jake was absolutely Stunning. like blindingly attractive

you didn’t know what to say at all

well until you came across a small puppy making it’s way up to the two of you

they were so cute that you just squealed out of excitement

jake was so surprised to hear Something from you that he just instantly put on this huge genuine grin

“there’s no tag on them!” your upsetting tone sent jake into haywire

he literally watched you pet that dog with literal heart eyes he wasn’t even being sutble

he takes a picture of you and he Stupidly leaves the ringer on so you hear him and everything

he was so embarrassed about it

“did you just take a picture of me?” “y-yeah” “oh... is that what people do?”

you literally had no idea how to interact with people so you thought what he did was Normal

somehow this caused jake’s crush on you to develop Quick

especially when you grabbed his hand to pull you closer to the dog

his heart was beating so fast he didn’t know what to do

he is self proclaimed the biggest dog lover but for some reason... he wasn’t even looking at the dog, not even trying to play with it

he was just staring at you with his doting eyes as you smiled and giggled while playing with the dog

he wasn’t gonna confess yet though because he still has to develop your relationship

in true shoujo romance anime fashion, he was gonna confess twelve episodes (probably a year) later <3

∷ sunghoon — ao haru ride

no i definitely did not put sunghoon for ao haru ride because i have a huge crush on kou and sunghoon... /s

you and sunghoon were in the same elementary class because... fate

you had the biggest crush on him and even your mom knew him because he was a well known figure skater

but who didn’t have a crush on him was the real question

being the young confident elementary student you were, you always talked to him

forever talking to him to the point where you two were Actually really good friends

you thought you were on cloud9

but. turns out figure skating takes a lot more training than you had thought so

you literally cried Buckets and Buckets when you found out he had to train in like russia for an unsure amount of time

there was no way on contacting him too since you had no phone, no nothing

so he left. and you didn’t know what to do with yourself

ok flash forward noises

now you’re in high school! still... gripping onto that crush you have on sunghoon

but you think it’s fine since you are Functioning without him i guess

well until you bump into someone with a very familiar voice...

“watch where you’re going” talk about passive Aggressive 🤨

and when you look up because obviously you were gonna start yelling at him

well. You just froze in shock when you were faced with sunghoon’s raised eyebrow smirking at you

and what was the logical thing to do apparently?

cry. right in front of him.

he just froze as he watched you sob while everyone stared at him

he was trying to explain himself while at the same time Dragging you Away because he couldn’t let you just cry in the middle of the hallway

now you two were at the top of some stairway as you sniffled recovering from your endless crying

“why were you crying? “how could i not when you’re here?”

turns out that sunghoon Knew you were at the same school as him but wanted you to figure it out yourself

it took you almost six months. to figure out sunghoon was in your grade.

but what next? do you rekindle your friendship or...

“i’ve changed” okay maybe that answered your question

and before he could even explain himself he just... Got up and left????? for no reason

and that’s when tsundere sunghoon started to come into play.

you constantly tried talking to him but it would end up with the two of you bickering

you walked home the same way too

weirdly enough He was very nice to you sometimes

letting you place your head on his shoulder, lovingly smiling at you, being very Oddly romantic

he was giving you mixed signals.

and there came that old elementary school crush... gearing back up for a second round

“what are we?” now you decided being bold was the right thing to do

he just stared at you and shrugged.

now here comes the water works

you started crying uncontrollably Again but this time sunghoon looked really guilty and comforted you

he even hugged you. (Wow... Development)

he then explained to you that he Likes you (omg) but he’s scared that he might have to pack up and leave you again and he doesn’t want you to get too attached

and you’re like “we have each other’s numbers this time though?”

sunghoon’s just like Ohhhh

that’s how you started dating

and rekindled that elementary crush (successfully)

∷ sunoo — toilet-bound hanako-kun

being the bold and adventurous person you are. You decided to call onto your school’s very own ghost

because you had the biggest crush on this upperclassman you needed the support of a Spirit to help you

“ummmm hey... school spirit, i’m kinda in love with someone and i heard—” “hi” and then you fall onto the ground because something scares you

turns out the spirit’s name is sunoo and you just summoned him

it also turns out this spirit was kinda cute 😟

he had offered you something like a book — telling you if you follow all the rules — you’ll end up dating your crush

turns out it was just a middle school romance book you could of bought at dollar tree.

you were rightfully mad at him Since all you did was end up embarrassing yourself

somehow during your argument, your eyes caught a glimpse of something in his pocket

you took it. because you deserved it

and ATE IT when sunoo told you that it grants you any wish when consumed

you didn’t even need to listen to any of the disclaimers because it was already in your stomach

one things turns into another and now you’re a spiritually bound fish to sunoo.

turns out what you ate was mermaid scales and he needed to eat one too so you could turn human (he told you he can’t explain it because it’s a long story!)

you two are now bonded together (4lyfe 🥺🤞) and you aren’t that happy due to the fact he was always teasing you and playing around with you!!!!

you were now his human assistant.

you helped him with cleaning the toilets and he helped you by saving you from the supernatural

very well balanced relationship

you grew very fond of sunoo as time went on

even though you almost died a few times... he was always there to save you from whatever the spiritual world had to offer

i won’t spoil anything but... school spirit sunoo seemed to have a soft spot for you too 😇

you showed him your passion for art and everything like that

you tried to dodge questions about the... y’know... why he was a spirit

knowing that it would probably hurt him

plus he didn’t have all those things coming after him for nothing

falling in love with a ghost wasn’t what... you were expecting when you first joined your school

but i guess you had no choice since he was spiritually bound to you!

∷ jungwon — whisper of the heart

you loved the library dearly, you loved reading and writing— just books in general

your favourite place was a really big cosy library a few minutes away from your house

you had always borrowed more than three books every visit

and every time you would look at who borrowed the book, the same exact name would show up each book you borrowed

“yang jungwon... he seems to have good taste in books”

you would dreamily sigh thinking about what this jungwon looked like

later on in the week you were writing a story at the park— y’know, normal things

your friend called you out of the blue for some reason rushing for you to help them

out of panic you forgot your book on the bench and didn’t realise when you had finally finished helping out your friend

to your surprise there was already someone sitting on the bench

and Reading Your Very Own Story

you literally just run up to him and snatch it from his hands because you’re embarrassed!!!

what didn’t help was the fact that the first thing he did was Laugh in your face about it .

he called your story stupid!!! and critiqued it!!!!

you just bicker with him and complain to your friend about it later that night

the next day you thought that... maybe if you went to the library again you might spot this yang jungwon

so you make it your mission to get to the library

funnily enough your plan had failed in an instant when your eyes caught a cat that you just became curious about

you followed it because it just wouldn’t stop getting away from you

it also looked like it was taking you somewhere but 😦

after a tiring ten minutes of following this cat from hell and back. It brought you to this old antique shop

you instantly fell in love with the store and everything in it

you were so distracted by everything that you hadn’t realised someone was behind you

you could feel your eyes widen when you realised it was the same boy from the park

holding that same cat you were following too????

“why are you here?” his eyes literally started Squinting at you

he then proceeded to tell you about how his vocal lessons were nearby and more importantly that the cat was His

he asks you if you want to go visit where he does his lessons and Obviously being as curious as you were, you accepted

when he brought you there you could see his eyes instantly sparkle from just being there cute... kinda

he even started to sing for you and that’s when you thought that he wasn’t that bad

some of his teachers started to join in too and before you knew it, the sun was already gone and you’ve spent the whole time with some boy that you were supposed to hate

“jungwon, who’s your friend” your body Froze in shock when you heard that name

jungwon thought you were stupid for not knowing your name and now you realise you’ve been crushing on him this whole time

(i refuse to continue on more with this because it’ll be too long unless some of you want a oneshot of this 😍)

∷ ni-ki — haikyuu

being forced by your teacher to sign up to be some volleyball team’s manager was Not that fun to experience

but there you were, managing a volleyball practice of that very own team

thankfully, it was safe to say you had a good relationship with all of them

and an even Better relationship with a certain volleyball player

nishimura riki and you were practically glued to the hip

you were so incredibly thankful that he was the first one to speak to you when you first started becoming their manager

the rest of them were tall and scary but riki was just tall and friendly

he was so energetic and just So bright that you couldn’t help but look forward to seeing him every day you had practice

he would even teach you how to play volleyball

like he’d be like “isn’t this move so cool? let me teach you it!”

at this point you could be a professional volleyball player with the help of riki

you were overjoyed watching them win their final match to compete in the spring interhigh

you were also incredibly happy to know that riki scored the winning point

he couldn’t stop telling you about it and you just kept excitedly praising him and not to play favourites but you weren’t this excited when heeseung scored the previous winning point

even though you and your team were excited, you could feel how nervous they were when they entered the huge gymnasium

they were surrounded by all the best high school volleyball teams in the country

the very first team they went up against gave them a very Tough time

you remember sweating so hard when the scores were almost the same, the other team leading in that set

you decided that. Maybe you could help

“riki! you can do it” your shouting somehow caused riki to instantly become energised

everything was a blur up until your team had Won the match

and all because you gave riki some encouragement

he literally ran to you the second they had won and almost knocked you down

you didn’t wanna tell him that he was sweaty so you just let him carry on hugging you tightly

the rest of the team was like “why didn’t you cheer us on like you did with riki?”

and when you tried to explain your face just started heating up like crazy

so you ignored the subject.

riki just took it as he was your favourite

but what you didn’t want to tell them was the fact that you had a crush on him

as if it wasn’t obvious enough 😟

#prism.nw #enhypenwriters #lsn.works #hybenet #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen drabbles #enhypen timestamps #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff #jungwon x reader #heeseung x reader #jay x reader #jake x reader #sunghoon x reader #sunoo x reader #riki x reader

[emerald-chaos]

Coney Island

Hi friends! I appreciate all the love and response I’ve gotten for my writing over the past week or so. You guys sure know how to make a gal feel loved! This is another little idea that came one night when I was screaming to a good friend of mine (which is how a lot of my ideas come to me lmao) about how pre-serum 1940s Steve deserves the best. It’s not necessarily my best work, but Steve Rogers deserves some love too. I hope you guys enjoy! Also please feel free to let me know what you guys would like to see me write next :) Enjoy! xo

Pairing: Pre-Serum!Steve x Reader

Word count: 1895

Warnings: swearing and bad attempts at being funny lol

a/n: this was uploaded on mobile because I’m at work tonight so if it looks funky I apologize! I’ll try to fix it after I finish my 3 night stint lol.

As the sun began to set and the hot July air began to cool, Steve couldn’t believe the situation he’d found himself in yet again.

“Come on, pal,” Bucky chuckled as he pat his friend roughly on the shoulder, “I’ve never met someone who was this upset to meet up with a couple of beautiful ladies.”

“What? And somehow be the third wheel on a double date again?” Steve quipped back at his long time friend.

Bucky replied with a roll of his eyes and waved off his friend, turning his body toward the Coney Island parking lot to see if he could find the girls they were supposed to be meeting.

Steve regretted that he sounded so bitter, but these “double dates” that Bucky dragged him on were somewhat of a joke. It was always the same song and dance. The girl who Bucky was attempting to court would bring a friend, either for moral support or to try and set her up, and that friend would always be wholly disappointed when she saw that Steve was who she was stuck with. Steve knew that not every girl had to like him, of course, but occasionally it would be nice to be as sought after or wanted as Bucky was - or at least to not be looked through by every girl he met.

“There they are,” Bucky grinned, raising his arms above his head to signal the two, “over here!”

Steve took a deep breath and prepared himself for the inevitable look of disappointment that he had become so accustomed to. Instead, as he turned he was met with a stunning pair of eyes and a soft smile splayed across the most incredible pair of lips he’d ever laid his eyes on. Seeing you made him feel like all the air had been forced out of his lungs and no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t catch his breath. The only other time he remembered experiencing the sensation was after a particularly bad time that he had gotten the living hell beat out of him in the alleyway - except this time, it was a good feeling.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Steve.” You said, your voice soft and warm - like honey.

There’s no way that could be a blush on your cheeks, right?

“Well, we already got our tickets,” Bucky’s voice brought Steve back to the present, “so what do you say we head in?”

---------

For the first time in, well, forever, Steve actually found himself enjoying the evening. The small talk didn’t feel stiff or forced, you never recoiled at any of the accidental touches throughout the night, and you actually looked him in the eyes when you were having a conversation. If you were disappointed in being stuck with Steve, you hid it pretty well.

The unrelenting sun had finally set and the colorful lights of various rides and booths reflected off of the water. You had been on a couple rides, enjoyed some hot dogs and funnel cakes, and now the group of you had been sucked into one of those carnival game booths. Bucky was attempting, as usual, to show off for your friend by trying to win her a stuffed animal.

“Would you like to take a walk or something?” Your voice captured Steve’s attention as he turned to look at you. You grinned a little before adding, “It’s kind of sickening to stand here and watch them act like this.”

Steve was caught off guard, both at the jab directed to your friends and the fact that you would even consider being alone with him.

“I, uh, yeah, sure, we could do that,” he nodded quickly, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

You smiled and started down the boardwalk.

This is too good to be true, right? He thought to himself. She’s obviously just trying to be nice.

“Steve?” your voice cut through his doubts. He hadn’t even realized that you made it several feet away from him and he was still planted in the same spot.

“Oh! Yeah, coming! Sorry!” Steve blushed as he hurried to catch up with you.

The two of you walked side by side for a few minutes, an oddly comfortable silence lingering between you.

“How are-”

“Have you-”

Steve’s eyes met yours as you both began to speak simultaneously and you shared a laugh together. Steve could feel the warmth rising in his face and he hoped to God that he wasn’t blushing like an idiot.

“You first,” he smiled softly.

“I was just going to ask how long you and James have known each other?” you asked, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

And there it was.

To anyone else the question would seem innocent, but Steve knew better. You had only drawn Steve away so you could question him about his friend - the same way every other person before you had done. There was a heat building inside Steve’s stomach. How could he be so stupid? How could he actually believe that someone like you could be interested in someone like him?

“T-the only reason I ask is,” you blurted, sounding...nervous? “well, because the two of you are so different. I mean, not in a bad way! Just like, James is so...cocky and loud and you’re...well you’re not.”

Steve stopped walking and looked at you. His thoughts were racing through his brain like a freight train. What exactly were you trying to say?

“God I'm so bad with words,” you laughed, shaking your head, “just forget I said anything at all.”

“You don’t have to feel bad for me, you know. If that’s what this is.” Steve couldn’t hold back the words, and they sounded much colder than he meant them to. He was just so tired of living in his friend’s shadow. The only time girls were ever nice to him was because they wanted to impress Bucky. He was sure that’s what you were doing too.

Once he noticed your brows furrow and a look of sadness overcome your face, he wanted nothing more than to rewind time and take his words back.

“Is that the type of person you think I am, Steve?” Your voice came out a little shaky, but Steve could still hear the hurt he had caused.

Steve sighed and rubbed his face.

“I’m sorry,” he started as his hands fell from his face and he met your gaze again, “I’m just...I’m not used to this.”

“And what exactly is this?” you asked, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“Someone on these double dats being interested in me.”

He could tell that his words caught you off guard. You were quiet and your arms slowly fell to your side. Steve was having trouble reading your expression, but it looked somewhere between someone who saw a puppy left on the side of the road and someone who was trying to understand a foreign language.

“Just...Just forget it. I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry.” Steve waved his hand, as if he was trying to dismiss the conversation.

What he didn’t expect was for your hand to intertwine with his.

Steve’s gaze lingered on your connected hands for a minute before traveling to meet your eyes.

“You’re not very good at this, Rogers.” You said with a small laugh, ���Here I was, thinking I was being too obvious.”

“I-I’m afraid I don’t follow,” Steve slowly responded.

You laughed again, the sound slowly becoming one of his favorites. Before he knew what was going on, you were pressed flush against him and capturing his lips with yours.

This would make the third time Steve had felt the wind be knocked from his lungs.

The kiss was slow, soft, and unlike any other he had ever experienced. It reminded him of the time his dad told him how he knew his mom was the one.

Well, when we kissed it felt like the rest of the world melted away. At that moment in time, it was just her and I.

A shiver ran down his spine as the warmth of your lips left his. As though he was drunk or coming out of a haze, it took him a moment to open his eyes and focus his vision back on you. There was a cute pinkness to your cheeks and you had a doe-eyed expression. It took a moment for the heartbeat in his ears to fade away - the joyful screams of park patrons and whirring of machinery returning.

“I like you, Steve,” You told him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze, “In fact, I've liked you for a while.”

You watched as Steve’s adam's apple bobbed up and down as he gulped.

“You,” Steve cleared his throat as the word came out as a squeak, “you do?”

That smile he adored returned to your lips as you nodded, “I do.”

Before he had an opportunity to respond, you were speaking again.

“I see you at school, you know, around town too. I’ve always noticed how kind you are to everyone. The way you hold the door open for the old ladies at Church. That one time you gave Johnny your lunch because his parents forgot to pack him one?” the smile on your face growing bigger as you recounted the times in which you fell for Steve Rogers, “I mean, what’s not to like.”

Steve felt an asthma attack coming on.

“James is nice and all,” you leaned in then, as if you were telling a secret, “but he’s also kind of a bastard.”

Steve couldn’t hold back the laugh that tumbled from his lips and you quickly joined him. This felt like some sort of twisted dream to him - you standing here, confessing your feelings to him. Never in a million years did he think someone as beautiful as you would even talk to him, let alone have feelings for him.

“Obviously I’m kidding, but in all honesty... you are one of the best men I’ve ever met, Steve. I’m sorry that any one has ever made you feel less than.” You squeezed his hand again.

This time it was Steve who initiated the kiss, holding your face between his hands as he moved his lips against yours. Your hands found a place on his waist and your bodies slotted against one another - like they were two puzzle pieces made to fit into one another. You tasted sweet, like funnel cake, and your lips were soft against his slightly chapped ones. Steve hadn’t kissed very many people in his lifetime, but if this were the last kiss he got to have - he could die a happy man.

“Ahem,”

The two of you separated to see your friend, holding a huge stuffed bear, and Bucky standing before you, grinning like fools.

“Are we interrupting something?” Bucky mocked the two of you, sending a wink to Steve.

“Shut it, Buck.” Steve warned, although he couldn’t help but grin back at his friend.

“Come on, lovebirds” Bucky teased, “my girl here wants to ride the ferris wheel again.”

You smoothed out your dress and smiled at Steve, lacing your fingers once again with his as the two of you followed your friends toward the ferris wheel.

For once, Steve was going to have to thank Bucky tomorrow.

#Steve Rogers #Steve Rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #preserum steve #Chris Evans characters #steve rogers fic #Steve Rogers imagine #captain america #captain america x you #steve rogers x y/n #marvel fanfiction #1940s!steve

[eartht137]

DEAREST HEART-LETTER TWO

Whooo, goodness!! I spooked myself after writing the first letter. There is a dog next door to my house and she likes to stare out towards the back "alley way" and one night while I was showering by candlelight (blinds still aren't fixed) she wouldn't stop staring out at the alley way. My azz was spooked lol. That being said, here is another "letter" from Mr. Kal El himself. Enjoy curvies MMMMMMwwwaahhhhhhh!!!!

Dark Clark Kent x Plus Size Reader

Warnings: Stalking (This chapter is pretty tame)

A few days later, the whole situation had hidden itself in your brain. You had so much going on in your waking life, you really didn't have time to dwell on a possible prank. Your birthday had arrived and you really weren't feeling too thrilled about it. Your depression just had to spike up and ruin the one day you thought you would enjoy, but you didn't even get to stress about it for long. You'd stepped into your office to boot up your computer for the day, and you saw it. On your desk was a letter, same vintage parchment, but his time it had an Aster instead of a Rose. You stared at it for so long, wondering if you should read it or not. You finally sat down and pulled the letter out of the envelope to see what he had to say.

Happy Birthday Little One,

I wish so badly that I could show you the best birthday you've ever had, but that will have to wait. I know you're not looking forward to today. I've noticed you haven't mentioned it much, and you almost forgot. How do you forget your birthday silly girl? I have purchased a gift every year since we met, I can't wait until I'm able to give them to you and you can unwrap each and everyone as if it were Christmas. Why haven't you planned anything? Not even a free day for yourself, what's going on? I wish you would talk to me. I want so badly to help you get better, but its a one day at a time deal. I was there you know, when you almost died? I was there the night you called your husband and told him the truth about how bad you felt. I swear it was the scariest night of my life when the surgeon walked in and told you they were putting you in an induced state for a week. All I could think was, what if you didn't wake up, or what if they did something wrong? What if they hurt you more or caused a bad reaction. I have seen a lot of things, but I have never been so sad and afraid to lose someone like you. I watched over you every night, making sure you'd come back to me and the baby. Well, you know what I mean. I know that's been rough on you, but you are making great progress. I remember you saying you'd like to change your hair, would you like for me to set up your appointment? I think you'd look delicious with cherry red hair, just don't cut it please. I love your hair. I love everything about you. I know you don't remember, but the moment our eyes met, I couldn't get you out of my head. I tried, I swear I tried so hard to stay away. I'd go for walks at night to clear my head and try not to think of you, and I'd find myself further and further away from home. It has to be fate that wants us together, because there you were, pulling in from work one night. I watched you sit there blaring your music, trying to finish the song before you went inside. I knew you right away, I had never been so....I can't describe how it felt, it was overwhelming. It had to be love that outweighed the hurt, even your "husband" walked out to greet you, it just couldn't overshadow what my heart felt. I told myself that I loved you enough to let you be happy, and I did for awhile. Not one day or night went by where you didn't cross my mind, so I decided to whisk by and take a picture of you, just for memory of the woman I couldn't have. One picture turned to two, two turned to ten. I had to get the perfect angle, but the only perfect angle is up close, in person; like I said I did try. I wish I could take you out for your birthday. I'd cook for us and we'd go down by the river, or I could take you somewhere 5 star. I know its really not your thing, but you deserve to be served like a queen. You are a queen to me. I dreamed about you, I dream about you all the time, but this one was different. It scared me so much, I woke in cold sweat. I can't bear to think about it now, but I know it was just a stupid dream. I will have to go out of the country for awhile, but I promise to still write as often as I can. I love you, so much.

With All My Heart and Soul,

Kal-El

"Babe!!! Babe, I need to tell you something." You said scared senseless. You rushed to your husband, showing him the letters and explained that you thought it was a sick prank. Your husband immediately called the police. He packed you all up and as much as he hated it, you all went to stay with your mom.

That night while you were up talking to your mom, she leaned back and asked you something insane.

"Is that really another man's baby?" she asked seriously.

"NO! I don't even know who this is, I swear I don't know a Kal-El. I've never met anyone like that in all my life." You whisper screamed at her as you struggled to hold back tears. She stared into your eyes for a moment before sighing heavily. Before you knew it she was crying and hugging your neck so tight you couldn't breathe.

"After all you've been through, this was the last thing you needed. I've always told you to be careful and watch your surroundings." She fussed.

"Ma I did, but I don't ever go anywhere. I stay in the house most of the time and I'm always with my family." You couldn't help but feel as if you were being attacked.

"You never know who is watching you." She argued back.

"Ma, look at me." You said standing back opening your arms to show your full body. "All these years I've worked hard to feel comfortable in my own skin. It took me a long time to feel fully comfortable around my own husband. All of these years you guys have trashed me for my weight, the times you all have told me that I get different treatment for my size, there was no way in this world I could've ever imagined that I would get stalked by-by this Kal-El fucker!" You yelled as tears flowed down your face, you could even feel your face strain in anger. "Now this is happening, and I should've been watching my surroundings. You drilled in my head for years that people looked past me for you and everyone else. You drilled in my head that people would only want me to use me, YOU DRILLED IN MY HEAD THAT I NEVER HAD THE LOOK TO MAKE IT OUT HERE, SO NOW HERE WE ARE WITH A MANIAC THAT SOMEHOW MANAGED TO FIND ME THAT I DON'T EVEN KNOW OR HAVE ANY CLUE AS TO WHAT THIS GUY LOOKS LIKE AND I SHOULD'VE BEEN WATCHING MY SURROUNDINGS!?" Your head felt like it was on fire, then all at once stars appeared and you lost vision.

When you woke up you were laying on the floor with a jacket under your neck as your mom and family (that she had called) stood around trying to get you to come back to. You tried sitting up, but only felt dizzier. Your hands and feet felt numb and you were shaking as sweat poured off of your body. Your husband sat by you, fanning you and giving you water. When you began to feel better, he helped you up and over to the couch. He asked everyone to leave you alone and not upset you anymore.

"Baby what do you want to do? How can I make you feel safe?" Your husband asked.

You stared deep in his eyes and remembered why you loved him so much. He always went out of his way to make sure you were happy. You thought back to not so pleasant days when you both argued and said mean things and your realized then and there how much you took him for granted sometimes. Before you knew it the flood gates released and you sobbed.

"Can you just hold me please?" You asked in a small pitiful voice.

"I will always hold you and be there for you baby. I love you. We will get through this together, like we always do."

#dark clark kent #plus size reader #henry cavill #dark superman

[lupically]

#6A96E7 | KAEYA.

genre | fluff

word count | 1312

warning | mention of the death of a pet

note | this is way long overdue but i am back from my vanishment... kind of... thank you for requesting.

request | from anon

what was supposed to be a nice little late-night picnic date turned into a disaster when your clumsiness decided to show itself through the form of you toppling over a rock in the woods and scraping your knees.

you had planned to head to the ocean shore with kaeya, which was where the picnic would take place. you brought him along a scenic route through the whispering woods; the lamp grasses that often glow a pretty ocean blue a sight nothing less than breathtaking.

you had everything planned from head to toe, as you would for all the dates that routinely take place the night before his longer missions. who knew you would get tripped by a rock on the ground when you ran ahead of him?

"i am so sorry," you muttered against his shoulder and your arms tightened around his neck. "this is embarrassing."

kaeya laughed easily, his hand gripping the back of your knees to keep you hoisted on his back. you could not see his face, but you suspect his eye has squinted into a faint line of a crescent moon. "everyone trips from time to time."

you frowned and propped your chin on his shoulder to rest. your feet swayed as he walked slowly, at a pace that almost felt as if he cared more for some spending quality time with you rather than rushing to get your scraped knees checked, and you felt the side of your shoes brush against his thighs once in a while.

"i have never seen you trip," you muttered, "neither have i ever seen diluc trip."

"he will be dead before he lets anyone see him topple over a rock, [name]."

you hummed faintly. kaeya made a fair point. you wondered if diluc would hate being seen smiling or being clumsy, that was if he even had it in him to be clumsy at all.

silence settled in after your third apology for the night, one kaeya continuously shot down and reassured that it was not your fault. then, once again, you two were rendered speechless by the semi-awkward, semi-disappointing situation.

kaeya was probably too busy carrying both you and the basket full of food to carry a casual conversation while still being his old, witty self. you did not want to cause him more trouble. you already pulled him out of his last-minute mission preparation, you wouldn't want to bother him while he carries you back to mondstadt.

what a shame. you had so much to say tonight.

"have you fallen asleep on me, darling?" kaeya asked, visibly turning his head. "don't fall asleep on me now, i cannot be left with my ego alone."

"i am awake!" you replied after his joke, purposefully jolting around to prove a point. he did not budge at all and continued to walk with a brief giggle.

turning back to face the front again, kaeya shoved aside the millisecond where his heart jumped out of his chest upon feeling your face through the soft brim of his hair. if he had turned his head fully, he might have just bumped his nose against yours, he might just have kissed you—a shiver ran down his spine, the thought of it alone might just melt him up.

"i'm sorry. should i talk about something?" you asked then.

he nodded. "yeah, go ahead."

you thought for a while, the sound of your thinking a numbness to his ears. it was way too close for comfort but not nearly close enough for desires; it was kaeya's thing, his contradiction where he both pushes you away (because he doesn't deserve love) and pulls you back in (because he has to have love).

and what happens when someone has to have something they do not deserve?

confusion happens. withdrawal happens. pain happens.

"my mom wrote me a letter from liyue," you said, looking up at the sky where the moon followed your trail. "our pet dog is dying."

kaeya cheered silently at the drastic change in topic. it was something he would latch onto other than just you, you, and you.

"i am very sorry to hear that," he said. "are you okay? would you go back to visit them?"

you laid your chin on his shoulder, staring ahead of you at the approaching city, and you shook your head.

"no, i don't think i will," you replied surely. "i actually... i have only met it three times, once every year, because i visit my parents once a year. and each year, i only visit for two months. i don't think i am attached to the dog enough to travel such a long way to put it down."

there was a downcast of your gaze. kaeya can sense from your silence and your heavy sigh that there was an additional point to what you said: but, somehow, i feel upset that it is leaving me.

"hey, kaeya," you called, and you asked, "what do you think about our moon?"

he raised a brow. "you mean the moon?"

"no," you immediately retorted, "our moon."

the moon in mondstadt, you meant. the moon that shadowed over you and trailed after your journey. the moon you would grieve to if it is to fall. the moon you knew nothing about but still deeply cared for simply because it has been a part of your life for too long to not exist anymore.

"i think i would be upset if it stops following us one day," he replied.

you smiled slowly. he understood, on a metaphorical level, on a heart-to-heart level, kaeya understood.

"me too," you mumbled. "it is kind of like you too. even though i know so little, i still liked her very much."

with that, kaeya halted his steps.

did you just confess?

"ah! oh, oh god! i–oh no," you panicked, "hold on! i wasn't–that was not supposed to come out that way–i'm sorry, kaeya, it's just–"

"[name]." he stopped you with ease. "do you like me?"

you licked your lower lip. you felt like if you lied, he would know. he does have very keen senses, after all. sometimes it felt like he knew more than he should too. there was likely no point in denying it at this point.

"i... yes," you said timidly, squeezing his shoulders. "i do like you."

there was a spark in his eyes—a dream come true? a confusion? a conflict that resonated with his desire to have you and his disagreement in his priorities?

kaeya wants you, he really does. he recognized his affection so early in your friendship that he has only given it space to grow. now he wants you more than anything; in reality, in dreams, in infinity, in the abyss—he wants you no matter where and what. just thinking about it alone makes his priorities shift; one second it was the knights and mondstadt, the next second it was just you, you, and you.

but which part of him deserves you? people suspicious of him, the traveler seemed to have met far interesting people outside, even his own brother holds a grudge against him. you would have your turn, something to go against him.

"[name], that is a–"

"don't!" you shot out in a rush before you backed down. "don't tell me now. wait until when you come back from your special mission, then you can tell me."

stay alive, don't die, come back and end this conversation, was what you meant.

he smirked, endeared. "the fatui doesn't care that i have someone to go home to."

you scoffed, but you smiled. what a discreet way to accept the confession, you sneaky knight! 

"yeah but you care, so you have to fight extra hard."

kaeya laughed, feeling defeated. 

"i will have to fight extra hard, i suppose."

but as always, it is everything you say, goes.

#genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #Genshin #genshin impact imagines #genshin kaeya #kaeya headcanons #kaeya x reader #genshin scenarios #kaeya scenarios #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin kaeya x reader

[mca-attack21]

The Beginning of Something part III

@the-ducks-umbrella @heyrobinstuff .... it's here with three parts left to go. As for everyone else, you can catch the first two parts as well as the rest of my writing here.

Your life in Camelot was beginning to fall into a welcomed routine. You would wake up early in the morning and beat Merlin down to the kitchens to fetch breakfast for the King and Queen. Just about the time that you laid everything out on the table, Merlin would come through the door, a small sense of relief evident as his eyes met yours. Some friendly banter would soon follow, which inevitably woke both Arthur and Gwen. Gwen would get up and you would help her prepare for the day and Arthur would threaten Merlin for waking him before begrudgingly allowing him to help prepare him for the day. The two would sit down for breakfast as you and Merlin began busying yourself with some of your chores about the room. You made the bed as Merlin collected the laundry. Sometimes you would shoot glances at each other, Merlin would mock Arthur under his breath, and you would try miserably not to laugh.

Throughout the day you would see each other in passing. Sometimes Merlin would go out of his way to seek you out and check in on you. Anytime that you had free time you would check in with Gaius or some of the knights that Merlin introduced you to to see if there was anything that you could do to help. Gaius took advantage of the fact that you were far more knowledgeable than Merlin when it came to healing magic and enchantments for his poultices. Even on the slow and “uneventful” days in Camelot, you found a way to stay busy.

It was the evenings that you looked forward to the most though. After you and Merlin had both completed the daily tasks and both Arthur and Gwen dismissed you for the night, he would take you out for a while. He used the fact that you were new to the castle at first, then it was that he wanted to introduce you to some more of the knights, to show you different places in Camelot that may have changed since the last time you were there, etc. Your favorite times were when you were released early and able to go beyond the citadel. That was when both you and Merlin could be completely free with each other, not having to worry about using magic or speaking freely. Though to be completely honest any time spent with Merlin was something you would not trade for anything else.

Being around him eased your mind and made your heart swell. You loved to make him smile or laugh, to have him be so carefree if even for a moment in the face of everything that was coming. Having someone to share your burden and the dangers that fate had determined you should carry was unreal. The two of you understood each other in a way that no one else had before. If things were different, maybe the two of you… But that didn’t matter, not really, you felt lucky to even know Merlin, if friendship was all that was in the cards for you that would be enough. Though that didn’t mean that you wouldn’t let your mind wander through the possibilities.

“Y/n? Did you hear me?” Gwen asked.

“No, sorry M’lady I got caught up in my head again.”

“No need to apologize, I just asked if you wanted to accompany Arthur, Merlin, and I on a ride for lunch.”

“I would love to accompany you. Do you need me to prepare anything? I can help you change into riding clothes if you would prefer?”

“That won’t be necessary, Merlin is arranging everything and I plan to wear this. You can take the time to change if you wish, I have nothing else for you to do this morning.”

“Thank you, your highness, I will come up and accompany you to the stables when it is time,” you bowed your head before moving towards the door.

“Y/n-” she called as you neared the door.

“Yes?”

“First of all, call me Gwen, I was once in your position and the titles and formalities are not necessary, especially not in here, not between friends. And I would like to think in the past weeks that you would come to think of me as such?”

“Of course M’- Gwen, you are one of the few friends that I have in Camelot.”

“I’m glad to be your friend, and as your friend, I want to assure you that he feels the same way,” Gwen said with a smile relaxing.

“I’m sorry?” you replied confused as to who she was speaking about.

“Merlin. I see the way that the two of you look at each other when you think no one is looking. He has become more productive just to ensure that he will have spare time to spend with you. With you, he acts lighter, truly more himself than he has in a long time. Arthur says that Merlin denies it, but it is clear as day to both of us. As he played an instrumental part in Arthur and I getting together, I figured I would return the favor,” she revealed.

“Do you honestly believe that?” you said trying to hide the rising heat in your cheeks.

“I do. Now go on and get ready for our double date” she laughed before giving you a friendly shove out of the door.

As you made your way to your quarters you could not contain the smile that was lighting up your face. The thought of you and Merlin actually being together was more than you could ever have dreamt of, the fact that you were not the only one who considered it made it more real.

As you prepared for lunch you felt childish, putting different styles in your hair getting worked up the way a child would with a crush. Out of all of the men in Camelot, Merlin was the least likely to care about that sort of thing and it was not like he didn’t already see you every day. Still…

As you walked with Gwen out to the horses, you were not surprised to hear Merlin and Arthur bantering back and forth.

“Sometimes the two of them act more like a married couple than you and Arthur,” you whispered to Gwen as you rounded the corner.

“You don’t know the half of it,” she replied laughing.

Hearing this, both Merlin and Arthur turned to face the two of you.

“You look lovely as always Guinevere, may I help you on your horse?” Arthur asked, taking her hand and smiling widely.

“Why of course,” she feigned being a wooed princess.

“Merlin, would you like me to help you on your horse?” you joked earning a laugh from the group.

The ride was short and ended in one of the lesser-known parts of the woods that Merlin had taken you during your second or third week in Camelot. Merlin had you set up the blanket and food as he took care of the horses.

“Y/n - I forgot to fill up the water, would you mind-”

“Say no more,” you answered, taking the empty pouches from him.

When you made your way back you were more than surprised to see that Merlin had set up a second picnic just in earshot of Arthur and Gwen. The fact that he’d gone through all of the extra trouble just for you…

“I’m sorry, it’s too much. I just thought… and then Arthur. But it doesn’t have to be, if it's too soon I mean if you don’t feel, I can just…” he fumbled around clearly upset that he had ever thought this was a good idea.

“Merlin,” you interrupted him forcing him to meet your eyes, “it’s absolutely lovely, and I do feel the same way, so let’s have a seat, yeah?”

Any nervousness or doubt was lost as a smile overtook his face and he sat across from you. Everything there on out went pretty smoothly, the two of you talked as you always did while enjoying the food that he had prepared. Afterward, you laid side by side looking up at the clouds and soaking in the nature that was thriving around you. Merlin ventured to take your hand in his and you just relished in the togetherness. Such an innocent act, but it felt more somehow. You honestly had no idea how long you stayed like that before you heard Arthur calling out of Merlin.

As all good things must, it was time for the picnic to come to an end. You started packing up your picnic as Merlin went over to pack up Arthur and Gwen’s. Arthur was teasing him and threw one of the water canvases beyond him.

“I think that my dog can catch better than you,” he jested.

“Perhaps that’s because you treat him better,” Merlin returned.

He went and retrieved the canvas, but was distracted by a tree that was radiating dark magic. He got closer and found a sigil lying on the ground. He was going to call for you to come check it out when Arthur interrupted his thoughts,

“Come along Merlin, your King and Queen await,” he called.

Merlin looked up to see that you had packed everything up and that Arthur and Gwen were on their horses. You sent him a questioning glance, but he knew that he would be best off to explain later. So he stood up and made his way over to you and his friends.

“Did you find it?” Arthur asked.

“What?” he replied clearly confused.

“The canvas! I swear Merlin if your head wasn’t attached…”

“Oh yes, of course, here it is,” he said showing the water container to Arthur.

Arthur nodded approvingly before turning his attention back to Gwen. You and Merlin mount your horsed and the four of you head back towards the castle.

“Everything okay Merlin?” you ask.

“Yeah of course,” he said out loud before mouthing ‘I’ll tell you later’ nodding towards Arthur and Gwen.

“Or you could tell me now” you spoke through the connection in your minds.

“I didn’t even think of using telepathy,” he replied.

“So, what happened back there?”

“I’m not sure, to be honest. All I know is that there was dark and powerful magic involved. I found this,” he answered showing you the sigil.

“I’ve never seen anything like it. Maybe Gaius will know something about it. We-” you were going to continue but were cut off.

“Are you two love birds okay back there? You’ve hardly said a word since we left,” Arthur observed.

“Arthur!” Gwen chastised, leaning over to punch him in the arm.

“We are doing well, just taking in the rare peace and quiet,” you answer sending Merlin a wink.

Merlin and you picked up the pace to come in closer to the king and queen and the four of you carried on a conversation until you rode into the citadel. There were villagers being helped by the knights.

“What happened?” Arthur questioned Leon.

“They have come to seek refuge from Helva.”

Arthur and Gwen immediately dismounted to help the refugees, and you and Merlin quickly took care of the horses and provisions. When you made it inside the castle, you made your way to the throne room where Arthur was learning the rest of what had happened.

“The city of Helva was attacked two days ago. Only the handful of villagers that you saw today were able to survive,” Leon explained.

“Who was responsible?” Arthur asked.

“We assumed the Saxons, but the villagers claim that magic was involved.”

“Morgana” both Merlin and I said at the same time a little too loudly causing Arthur to glance in your direction.

“Do you suspect my sister's involvement?” he returned his attention to Leon.

“The evidence would suggest so, Sire.”

“Strengthen the garrison, double the patrol at the border, and see that the refugees are well taken care of,” Arthur ordered. The knights nodded in understanding before filing out.

It was soon only you, Arthur, Gwen, and Merlin left.

“It makes no sense for Morgana to attack Helva,” Merlin spoke up.

“She must have her reasons,” Gwen replied.

“Why does it strike you as odd?” Arthur asked, his entire demeanor changed now that his knights had left.

“Helva is one of the few places where Magic is practiced freely. Why would she attack her own?”

“Perhaps she was looking for something? Maybe someone? Either way, her being this close to our borders is not good news. We should go talk to some of the villagers, come along Merlin.”

Arthur and Merlin left. And you accompanied Gwen upstairs and drew her a bath before going downstairs to arrange dinner with the kitchen staff. An uneasy feeling accompanied you for the rest of the day. And not even seeing Merlin and Arthur upon returning with the food was enough for it to subside.

After the two of you were dismissed, you went down to speak to Gaius about the sigil. He knew little more than that it was of fine workmanship that no one would part with willingly. You and Merlin decided that you would need to go back at first light to see if you could learn anything else about what happened. Knowing that you had a long day ahead of you tomorrow, you both decided to call it an early night. Merlin walked you to your quarters.

“Is everything alright? You’ve seemed off since we returned,” Merlin asked.

“I’m fine.”

“Y/n…”

“It’s nothing important Merlin, I promise.”

“Okay, as long as you’re sure.”

“I appreciate your concern.”

The two of you had made it to your door, so you decided to take the opportunity to change the subject.

“Thank you for today, the picnic was amazing,” you say trying not to blush.

“I am just glad that we finally have our feelings out in the open,” he replied venturing to take your hands in his.

“So am I,” you smiled this time completely failing to keep the heat from your cheeks.

The two of you stood like that for a moment staring at each other. You studied Merlin’s face before speaking up softly, “This is usually the part where you are supposed to say goodnight.”

He glanced down at your lips and back up to your eyes. He was trying to decide whether or not he should take the leap. A good night kiss but was it too soon. He must’ve decided that it was as he started to pull away nervously before you stepped forward and caught his lips with yours. It was short and sweet.

“Goodnight Merlin,” you said quickly before turning away and entering your quarters.

You missed the ear-to-ear grin that Merlin wore all the way from your door to his own. He was glad that Gaius was already asleep upon his return as he didn’t know if he could utter coherent words at the moment.

You laid down and stared at the ceiling, replaying the moment in your head and waiting for the butterflies in your stomach to calm down. Knowing that sleep would not be your friend for some time, you decided to be productive and sneak down to the kitchen to gather some breakfast for your early morning trip.

Your concerns of earlier began once again to plague your mind. What if the who Morgana had been searching for was Emrys? Worse yet, what if it were you? You couldn’t stand the thought of more people getting hurt because of you. The alternative was not much better, if she was looking for something it was most likely something that would soon put Merlin or Arthur in danger. Knowing that your mind was troubled was enough to lead you to check in on Arthur, so you proceeded to the lookout where you were not surprised to find him.

He was however completely taken by surprise to be disturbed and nearly took your head off.

“Woah there your majesty, it’s just me,” you said.

“Y/n? What are you doing here at this hour?”

“Merlin told me this is where you go to think when something is troubling you-”

“I should have him in the stocks for revealing my private affairs. It’s surely a form of treason,” he joked half-heartedly.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“About what?”

“Whatever is troubling you. I know I am only a servant, but my ear listens as well as any other.”

“You know you are not ‘only a servant’, I value your counsel as well as your friendship, I am just not sure that you would understand.”

“Well, if I had to guess, I would say that you are feeling torn and a bit guilty. You have your duties as a king to protect your people and Camelot. You know to do so will inevitably put you against Morgana who you want more than anything to believe is still able to be saved/redeemed. So now you are here wondering where it all went wrong, wondering if in the moment you will have what it takes if you are still the king you always promised yourself you would be. Am I close?”

By the look on Arthur's face, you could see that you were, so you continued, “Morgana made her choices and there is nothing that you can do to change that. There is nothing wrong about wanting to save the sister you grew up with and loved. You just have to find a way to come to terms with the fact that she is no longer that person. She has allowed fear and hatred to corrupt her. You are protecting Camelot and the people you love from a sorcerer who has every intention of ending life as you know it through whatever means necessary. If you have to face her, you will do the right thing without hesitation, because that is who you are, Arthur Pendragon. You are the greatest king to rule Camelot. You will bring peace to the land, and unite Albion. Your friends believe in you, your people believe in you, now it is time for you to believe in yourself.”

There was something about the way you spoke that made Arthur feel as though every word was true. It was like you had already seen everything play out and came back to give him the courage he needed. His doubts faded away and he felt more sure of himself than he had in a long time. “Thank you,” he replied at a loss for better words as he was still taking in the weight of yours.

“There is no need for thanks Sire,” you replied bowing in sincere respect before taking your leave. By the time you made it back to your quarters, you were exhausted and quickly fell asleep.

It did not feel like long before Merlin was gently shaking you awake. You retrieved the pack of food that you retrieved the night before and made your way to the horses Merlin had readied. You both rode quickly to where you had picnicked only the day before. The tree stump, the sigil, and the feeling that accompanied it, there was something to be said about it. And if that something would in any way help you in the fight against Morgana, or to protect Arthur and Camelot then you had to see it out. You didn’t know exactly what Merlin was looking for, but you were pretty sure that he was not expecting what he found.

It was just as he was beginning to search the area that the first of Morgana’s men came with his sword barrelling down at Merlin. Behind him at least seven more who managed to scare off your horses. That was not an issue, as you and Merlin were easily able to fight them off with your magic. The problem was that one of them had stayed behind and had a crossbow. You managed to take him out, but not before Merlin was shot. You immediately whipped around and took out the man behind the crossbow. Using your magic to make sure that there was no one else before turning back to Merlin whose face was already paling as he stumbled forward towards you.

“Hey there, take it easy, just lie back,” you said as you guided him to the ground. His only response was painful groaning.

“Okay Merlin, I’m going to pull this out. But we have to keep moving, those men won’t be alone, Morgana may even be nearby. But for now, we at least have the advantage of the fact that no one alive besides us knows that we were here.”

Without warning, you clasped one hand over his mouth and pulled out the arrow. Merlin’s muffled yells broke your heart but you didn’t have time, not right now, not if you were going to save him.

“I’m sorry, I really am, but we have to get going, as soon as we are far enough away I can heal you.”

“Where will we go?” Merlin asked, already noticeably weaker.

“To the watchtower just past the ridge. We can take shelter there long enough for me to heal you and for Morgana and her men to leave.”

Merlin nodded before using his sword to help him stand.

“Can you walk?” you asked as you helped him up.

“Yeah, I think so,” he said, voice strained.

“Okay, here we go,” you said as you put his arm over your shoulder and helped support his weight. The walk took you nearly twice as long as it should have. You found Merlin some cover to rest in while you went ahead to make sure it was safe. You returned and hoisted him up, “We are almost there, and then everything will be okay I promise.”

When the two of you made it inside you were faced with a new problem...the winding staircase. You made it about halfway up before Merlin stumbled. You tried to help him up but he refused.

“Come on Merlin, we can’t stop here. Morgana’s men will be here shortly.”

“I just - I just need a minute,” he decided before asking, “How do you know this place anyways?”

“It is one of the places I stayed after what happened to my father.”

You could tell that Merlin was going to say something else, but the dogs heard in the distance were enough to still his tongue.

“Okay, minute over. We have to get up to the roof,” you said as you helped Merlin up.

By the time you got Merlin up to the roof, he was all but unconscious. You worried that through your journey his injury became worse, or maybe you had misjudged it initially. You wanted to heal him, but you had a bigger problem to deal with first. Morgana and her men had entered the tower. Knowing that they would see Merlin’s blood, Morgana was unlikely to leave until she searched every inch of it herself. You could try to seal her out, but you didn’t want to test whose power was stronger today. Especially when Merlin was unable to defend himself if you failed. Instead, you held a concealment spell, which took a significant amount of effort with two people.

“They were here! Emerys or Phúlax, maybe even both of them, and you let them slip away!” Morgana raged. You were beginning to get lightheaded and prayed that they would exit the roof.

“They couldn’t have gone far, maybe they saw us coming and took off again. We can search the surrounding areas, M’lady,” a brave knight suggested. That was all it took for Morgana to order all of her men back to their horses and into the woods to continue their search.

As soon as she was out of earshot you released the concealment. The sudden relief almost caused you to pass out, but you forced yourself over to Merlin. In the entirety of your life, you had never remembered feeling as drained as you did at that moment. But that didn’t matter, you were going to save him. As you said the healing enchantments, your power was leaving you. It was getting harder and harder to keep your eyes open, but you pushed on knowing that if you allowed yours to close before you were done that his would never open again. As the last words left your mouth, you collapsed in exhaustion praying to any and everything that it had worked.

You vaguely remembered being picked up. You were scared and preparing yourself for the worst until you heard Merlin’s voice. It was distant and muffled, but you could tell that it was his. You were brought comfort in the fact that no matter what happened to you that he was going to be okay. The next thing you remembered was feeling weightless and then another voice, one much more powerful and wise speaking. There was then a sensation, unlike anything that you’d ever felt before.

“She will be okay, though she will need time to recover fully. What she did was no small feat, something I am not even sure you could have survived young Warlock.”

“Thank you, I don’t know how I would have got her back here without your help,” Merlin replied.

You were finally able to force your eyes open only to see the most magnificent dragon standing before you.

“Ahhh, our friend is finally awake. It is a pleasure to meet you Phúlax.”

“You must be Kilgarrah,” you replied, trying to sit up before gasping in pain.

“Lie still young one, your body is weak and my magic works slowly.”

“Thank you for saving us,” you nod towards the dragon.

“You are the one I should thank for without you I would be without a dragon lord. But I should go, Courage and Strength are nearly here. Be warned young warlock the great war is nearly upon us. And Phúlax, your time is nearing,” he said before flying away.

“Wait! What does that mean?” Merlin called out, but it was to know avail.

His attention was redirected to you as you started coughing. He was by your side in an instant. “Hey, take it easy everything is going to be fine.” He squeezed your hand reassuringly, trying to ignore the fact that it was freezing. He trusted that Kilgarah was right and that his friends were on their way. And if on cue, familiar voices came into earshot.

“Merlin? Y/n?” you heard Gwaine call out.

“How many times are you going to call for them?” Arthur asked, slightly amused.

“Until they answer,” Gwaine said, his bravado attempting to hide his concern, “Merlin? Y/n?”

“We’re here,” Merlin called.

Gwaine and Arthur dismounted their horses and came down to where Merlin and you were situated, at this point you were practically unconscious again.

“What happened?” Arthur asked at once.

“Gaius sent Y/n and I out to get herbs before breakfast and we were caught by Morgana’s men. We escaped, but Y/n was hit by a direct blast from Morgana. We need to get her back to Gaius,” Merlin lied.

Luckily Arthur bought it no questions asked, any doubts he had overtaken by concern for you.

The next thing you knew, you were waking up in your bed. You glanced around and decided that it had to be at least midday. You would be lying if you said that you were a little disappointed not to see Merlin first thing when you woke up. But you pushed that feeling aside and prepared yourself for the day. You made your way downstairs to see if Gaius had any idea where your favorite Warlock was, but as soon as you opened the door your question was answered.

Arthur, Merlin, Gwaine, Leon, and Gaius were all there standing around the body of a knight. The skin on his face had grown over his face until he would have suffocated.

“In the old days this was a punishment known as Ragaid, it came only from the high priestess herself, an ultimate warning to her enemies,” Gaius explained.

“What does it mean?” Arthur asked.

“It means that Morgana has declared war,” you said, alerting everyone in the room of your presence for the first time.

#Merlin #merlin x reader #bbc merlin x reader #bbc merlin imagine #bbc merlin imagines #merlin rewrite #merlinxreader #merlin imagine #merlin imagines #bbc merlin #merlin bbc #merlin

[jesusology]

Haruka theory and thoughts under the read more! just me going through the MV and voicing aloud some thoughts, let me know what you guys think too! 

（*´▽｀*）also this is super long i

opening scene! the necklace is obviously important to him. also it’s very cute. nothing to say abt this in particular but i just think it’s really cute

love the background choice and how the room looks in general. gives me a big liminal space vibe. i promise i’m getting to actual theorizing in a second here just

love how the scenery from the window changes when it switches back and forth between him and his younger self (?). i’ve tried searching what the symbolism is of a red sky (if there is any) and i did see that it could mean “the end” or it could be symbolic of danger and what’s to come.

ugh i love the water thing going on. first off, i’m a huge sucker for water imagery and the like and so you KNOW i go gaga for this. it has to be because haruka feels like he’s constantly drowning, like he’s suffocating on his emotions. 

i’ve watched this MV at least fifty times and this still gets me upset. pretty obvious that what’s going on here is some form of emotional abuse as well as a co-dependence on Haruka’s part. Haruka clearly has a learning disability and it’s nothing he can control but the people in his life are blaming him for it and so he blames himself, too.

evidence of emotional abuse, being told things like how he’s pitiful or not smart, etc and of course Haruka is going to believe that hence why he’s always calling himself dumb and feeling like when he’s around others he’ll only make them sad because that’s exactly how it was for him at home. 

also like how the background is all gray and gloomy and there’s his childish scribbling of a monster (?) hovering over. could be symbolic of a threat to what’s his normal life, like it could end so suddenly

the world around Haruka is changing. his parents are changing (i’m assuming they’re divorced but i don’t think that’s ever made explicitly clear), he’s growing up, but he also feels exactly the same maturity wise. he may be increasing in age but he still is exactly the same and the change is unnerving to Haruka and it’s become noticeable to his parents that he’s not “growing up” and doing “normal” things. his learning disability is holding him back from becoming what’s so normal for society, what’s accepted in society. 

so he’s viewed as “weak”, it’s his ‘weakness’. and society eats the weak. 

i feel like Haruka’s parents (perhaps namely his mom)(or maybe it was both his mom and his dad but Haruka’s thinking more about his mom because he was closer to her) were becoming fed up with Haruka’s inability to learn what is supposed to be ~oh so natural~ and ~normal~ so they quickly began to get frustrated. also, that drawing behind Haruka appears later i think....

Haruka realizes and recognizes what’s going on and this, in turn, makes him have feelings of self-loathing. why can’t he do what anyone else can? why is everything around him so different but he’s the same? why is he getting taller, having more expectation placed upon him when it’s just too hard for him? Haruka is grappling with these thoughts constantly and it’s making him feel like he’s drowning and no one cares to pull him up out of the water.

i’m gonna be honest, i have no clue what to make of the girl with him at the fireworks but i DO know that the fireworks are really important to him because i recall him answering that it was his cherished memory and he goes on to say the most expensive thing he’s bought was cotton candy and i’ll venture to say that it was at this fireworks festival. 

i got nothing to add to this but i just love that line and it is important for you all to know this

are those yellow roses or marigolds? i’m thinking maybe they’re yellow roses which can mean either “jealousy” or “thinking of you” 

i could be going off a wrong assumption here, but hey this is all just guess-work anyway... did he accidentally push the girl? and it somehow led to her death or at the very least a severe injury? i’m willing to bet it was more of an injury than death, but even so. 

and if he DID push her, now it’s coming to light? like he did that, it was his fault (even if it was an accident, he would no doubt blame himself), and he’s a bad person who is only good for causing harm to others.

as someone who also sleeps with like five stuffed bunny animals, solidarity between me and Haruka. i want that rabbit it looks so cute

YAA there it is again! i don’t know what the heck it means but there it is!

the dog gives me pause because i’m not entirely sure what to make of it but i DO think this is where it’s important to remind people that the MV’s are based upon the prisoner’s own perception (i think. if i’m wrong, please correct me) and so we’re getting a lot of this from a biased standpoint. 

again, emotional abuse that might seem “”””Harmless””””” to others but it’s anything EXCEPT. 

did the dog run away? was he given the dog and Haruka now blames himself for letting the dog run off and perhaps the dog got hit by a car? (;﹏;) i feel like something that’s important is just how much self-hatred Haruka has and his tendency to blame himself for outside factors. i don’t think he LITERALLY killed the dog, but he feels as though he did so it’s become figurative. 

also as far as his dislikes being “children” and “animals”, i think he’s jealous of them, maybe? like that could tie into the yellow roses and their symbolism signifying jealousy and envy. he’s jealous of the inherent “innocence” associated with them. he’s getting older, so that “innocence” that’s accepted with THEM is no longer being used with HIM. Haruka has what’s deemed as “childish” interests and i get the feeling he’s made to feel badly about it. no doubt his disability is tied in with this.

there’s those flowers again. and Haruka tries to drown his wants/needs in order to try and “repent” for being the way he is. it’s HIS fault, so he has to think everything is fine even though he’s NOT fine and he’s going to break at some point under the pressure of society/his parents/everything. 

Haruka makes an effort to try to understand things in the beginning, but everytime he questions something that’s really ~obvious~ to everyone else he’s met with disappointed gazes and harsh critiques. so he stops trying to understand what he’s apparently ~lacking~ and he stops asking questions because that’s it! he’s dumb! he doesn’t get it so why bother!

i feel like by this point any praise to Haruka is better than nothing. rather than indifference or being ignored, he’d even rather be called “crazy”. i think Haruka just wants ANY attention be it good or bad - what he hates the most is feeling invisible or as if he could disappear and it wouldn’t matter to anyone.

i still feel like the blood on his hands is more figurative than literal and for reasons i’ve already explained so there’s no need to rehash it like i’m trying to meet an essay word count requirement

me too Haruka （；へ：）

his feelings of sadness and being unwanted turn to anger onto HIMSELF and it is what snaps the very thin thread he’s been living on 

choking himself ties into the water motif we’ve got going on here. the drowning, the suffocation - no longer being able to breathe because everything is broken and it’s unfixable. and he’s the reason why.

i feel like his crime is somehow suicide/attempted suicide but if it IS suicide then i really don’t know how he could be with the other prisoners? unless they’re all dead and this is some form of purgatory or something but otherwise? i don’t know. i just feel like it could be suicide

now i will also say this. the puddle of blue surrounding “him” has to be blood and that kind of makes me wonder if i’ve been barking up the wrong tree here but. idk any ideas anyone else has on this would be appreciated and also please talk to me about MILGRAM because i’ve got a badddd obsession 

what Haruka wants more than anything is attention and love. he wants love and yet it’s difficult for him to accept love because he doesn’t seem to have any “experience” with love. in the questions asked to him, he doesn’t even seem to really know what “love” actually is. he considers “liking” and “loving” to be the same thing, there’s no difference to him. if he’s getting attention it might not even matter to him because at this point something is better than nothing. 

so yes! this is messy. and it’s perhaps even incoherent. if you read this thanks for coming to my TED talk i love Haruka so much. it’s probably become obvious that i’m a little biased bc i relate to him a lot. let me know your own theories too or thoughts on this, i’d like to know hehe （*´▽｀*）

#MILGRAM #haruka sakurai #milgram theories #i mention suicide in this as a heads up! #i cant believe i just spent like an hour writing this. hm. i am in deep #i relate to He.... and i love him #i wrote all of this at 3 AM bc i am off my rocker

[robininthelabyrinth]

Hopefully I’m not too early but What if Jiang Fengmian went “they only asks for blood heirs” and gave Jiang Cheng up to the Wen Indoctrination Camp because he cannot bear Wei Wuxian going and possibly getting hurt. JC is very hurt by the blatant favouritism of his father but still went as his duty dictates. He somehow become close friends with Huaisang, MianMian, and Jin Zixuan. Please give me Jiang Cheng Protection Squad. MingCheng sort of happens? Thank you so much!

“…wow,” Nie Huaisang said when Jiang Cheng finished explaining. “That’s – that’s bullshit.”

Jiang Cheng flushed. Secretly, in his heart, he agreed a little bit with Nie Huaisang’s assessment, but at the same time he couldn’t just sit around while someone said things about his father…

“Before you say that I can’t say something like that, I’m not being cruel or dismissive, I’m describing the situation accurately using crude words,” Nie Huaisang said, holding up his hands. “It’s not the same.”

That…sounded wrong.

“Back me up here,” Nie Huaisang said to the others in their group. They’d been put into a single group by the Wen sect, all of them but Mianmian who’d snuck over by climbing a tree, and given a too-small, too-crowded tent to sleep in and a single fire pit to warm themselves. How that had let them to sitting by the fire and sharing stories of how they’d been sent here, Jiang Cheng wasn’t sure. “Sect Leader Jiang deciding that because the Wen sect only asked for blood heirs that he wouldn’t sent Wei-xiong here alongside Jiang-xiong because he might get hurt is a situation can be, and indeed must be, accurately described as being total bullshit, right?”

“…it kind of is,” Jin Zixuan said. “Sorry, Jiang Wanyin.”

“It definitely is,” Mianmian said, emboldened by her sect leader’s agreement. “Absolutely bullshit.”

Even Lan Wangji hummed. It was a pretty neutral sound, but it might be an affirmative hum.

Well, if everyone agreed…

Jiang Cheng’s shoulders went down a fraction from where they’d been hovering around his ears. 

“I wasn’t just taking it too personally?” he asked, seeking confirmation. “I mean, Father’s right – it doesn’t make sense to give the Wen sect two hostages when they’ve only asked for one, and there’s always the risk that Wei Wuxian would get hurt –”

“Your father should be concerned about whether you get hurt!” Nie Huaisang exclaimed, slapping the ground. “They don’t feed us, they make us work in the fields, and who knows what else…! When my brother heard about their request, he nearly killed the Wen sect’s messenger, he was so angry!”

“My mother was angry, too,” Jiang Cheng offered. “She and my father got into a big fight –”

Nie Huaisang jabbed a finger at him, rather rudely. “From the story you told, your mother only got really angry when she heard Wei Wuxian was staying behind.”

“…so?”

“There’s a difference between being upset over your son’s well-being and being upset that – that – that, I don’t know! That your favorite dog is losing the race!”

“My mother threw a vase at my father’s head when she heard that he’d agreed to send me here,” Jin Zixuan said quietly. He was actually a lot more tolerable without his retainers puffing him up and egging him on all the time, and having to work side-by-side in the fields had revealed that under the flash and arrogance there was an introverted boy who disliked dealing with people nearly as much as Jiang Cheng did. “Then she spent the next two days trying to find a way out of it, then hovered for the rest of the week before I left.”

“My father punched a wall,” Mianmian recalled. “Mother had to sit on him before he tried something crazy, like petitioning to remove me from the sect or something. Not that’d I’d ever have let Jin-gongzi come here alone, of course.”

“See?” Nie Huaiwang said, gesturing at them all. Lan Wangji hadn’t volunteered, but obviously no one would ask him, either; they’d all heard about the burning of the Cloud Recesses. No one had agreed to send him here. “Violence in response to an unreasonable request! Violence! Anything less is unacceptable!”

“You know, for the very first time, I think see your resemblance to the rest of the Nie sect?” Mianmian said, chin on her hand.

“You’re exaggerating,” Jiang Cheng said. “No, not about the resemblance, about – the other part. It’s not anywhere near as bad as you’re all making it out to be; Wei Wuxian’s always been my father’s favorite, and Mother’s always been angry about it. It’s not a big deal.”

“They should not compare you,” Lan Wangji said. He didn’t talk much, so everyone always listened when he did. “It is inappropriate.”

Jiang Cheng didn’t know what to do with that. He’d never not been compared to Wei Wuxian, not since he’d arrived at the Lotus Pier all those years ago…and maybe even before.

“Even Lan-er-gongzi agrees,” Nie Huaisang said, pulling his knees up and putting his chin on them with a pout. “It’s all bullshit, I’m telling you. I’m taking you back with me to the Nie sect when all this is over. If your parents want you back, they can come ask nicely.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Jiang Cheng told him.

“You could come to Lanling if you prefer,” Jin Zixuan said, and Jiang Cheng turned to stare at him. “What? Your mother and mine are friends. It’d be fine. I wouldn’t – it wouldn’t be a problem.”

“I’m the heir of the Jiang sect,” Jiang Cheng exclaimed, throwing up his hands. “I can’t not go back!”

“Don’t think of it as not going back,” Mianmian said. “Think of it as taking a long detour.”

“You’d like Qinghe,” Nie Huaisang put in. “My brother’s really cool. He gives great hugs.”

“I bet he does,” Mianmian muttered appreciatively.

“Gross, Mianmian.”

“He’s seventh on the list of most attractive male cultivators, and in my personal opinion should be a good few places higher up. Get used to it.”

“I don’t do hugs anyway,” Jiang Cheng interjected before he somehow got sold up the river – he knew how this sort of thing went. “Father doesn’t like them.”

“…your father hugged Wei Ying when he arrived at the Cloud Recesses to collect him,” Lan Wangji said neutrally.

“Fine. He doesn’t like them with me. Never did, not really, the whole time I was growing up…well, I mean, I guess he did sometimes when I was really young, before Wei Wuxian came...”

“Are you seriously saying your father hugs Wei Wuxian and not you?” Jin Zixuan asked. “And that he - he stopped hugging you when Wei Wuxian was there? Because that’s – that’s…”

“Bullshit?” Nie Huaisang suggested.

“Bullshit,” Jin Zixuan agreed with surprising vehemence.

“You’re exaggerating,” Jiang Cheng said.

“No,” Lan Wangji said.

“No, what? No they’re not exaggerating, no they’re not –”

“No. It is bullshit.”

“…did we just get a Lan to curse?” Mianmian asked, eyes wide. “I didn’t even know Lans were allowed to do that. Ever.”

“It is not a curse,” Lan Wangji said with dignity. “It is an accurate description of the situation.”

“Vindication,” Nie Huaisang hissed. How Jiang Cheng had missed that he was such a vicious little snake during their time at the Cloud Recesses, he had no idea, and judging by the amused expressions on everyone else’s faces, they felt much the same. “See, Jiang Cheng, this is why you –”

“Time to sleep,” Lan Wangji interrupted. His internal sense of time was more reliable than any clock when it came to sleeping and waking, and no one complained – if they stayed out much later than nine the Wen sect guards would come to accuse them of making trouble, and no one wanted to be labelled a trouble-maker.

Mianmian disappeared back over to the women’s camp – boring in comparison, according to her, but more likely she just wanted to keep her word about watching over Jin Zixuan – and the rest of them shuffled back to bed.

Some time later that night, when Jiang Cheng was lying in the middle of a pile of arms and legs he could no longer differentiate, he stared at the ceiling and asked quietly, “…is it really that bad?”

An arm looped around his waist tightened, and a foot lightly nudged him from the other direction.

“It’s not that it’s bad,” someone said, and their voice was so faint that he couldn’t tell which of the boys it was. “It’s that you deserve better.”

Jiang Cheng didn’t know what to say to that.

He continued not to know what to say the next day, but that was the day that they got forced to act as bait on a night-hunt into a giant lightless cave and Mianmian nearly got herself killed, followed very shortly by Jin Zixuan and Lan Wangji for standing up for her.

Under normal circumstances, Jiang Cheng would think first about his sect and only later about everyone else, and he tried, really, but – well, the Wens were attacking anyway, and somehow it’s Nie Huaisang of all people who hisses, “Get Wen Chao!” and Jiang Cheng had, and for a moment there it looked like they were going to be okay.

And then they all got stuck in a cave with a corrupted Xuanwu.

Minus the Wens, which was at least something.

“There are fresh maple leaves on the water,” Lan Wangji said. “There must be a way in and out.”

“I can dive in and check it out if someone distracts the Xuanwu,” Jiang Cheng offered. When they stared at him, he shrugged. “I’m a good swimmer.”

“You’d better be an amazing swimmer,” Jin Zixuan said. “I don’t want to have to plan your funeral.”

“I don’t think we get funerals here,” Nie Huaisang put in. “So if you die, you’ll stink up the whole place and we’ll all be very upset. I mean, gross!”

Jiang Cheng had by this point gotten used to Nie Huaisang’s – Nie Huaisang-ness, but it couldn’t be denied that everyone was a lot less terrified after listening to Nie Huaisang complain about nonsense for a bit. So much so, in fact, that it abruptly occurred to Jiang Cheng that maybe Nie Huaisang was doing it on purpose which…he wasn’t sure what to do with, so he decided to just put out of his mind.

Lan Wangji and Jin Zixuan put their heads together and eventually decided on each of them using a fire talisman as a distraction, alternating between them, while Jiang Cheng crept to the water and found a way out, which he reported back.

“Someone will need to stay behind as a distraction,” Lan Wangji said solemnly. His hands were clasped together, and Jiang Cheng knew what he was going to say before he said it.

“No way,” he said. “You’re not staying behind. If anything, I should; I’m the best swimmer, I might be able to get around it even if it’s not distracted.”

“You know where the exit is; it is better if you lead those going out.”

“A description will do the trick just as well,” Jiang Cheng argued. “And anyway, it’s not – it’s not as if I’ll be missed at home, the way all of you would be.”

They all glared at him, then, and he shrugged angrily.

“It’s true,” he said, and he could say it only because Wei Wuxian wasn’t there to stop him. He wouldn’t even think it, if Wei Wuxian was there; Wei Wuxian always knew when it was coming and interrupted him with a smile or a joke or something, and so the bitterness never got a chance to be let out. But he wasn’t here now, they were, and everyone else seemed to think it was all bullshit and maybe it was, okay, maybe it was. But it didn’t make it any less true. “My father has always said that Wei Wuxian understood the sect motto better than I did. He wouldn’t be upset at all if the sect went to him instead, and if I was dead or injured he’d probably just give him the Jiang surname in my honor or something. Let me be the one to stay.”

“Uh, question,” Nie Huaisang said. “Why does anyone have to stay? Can’t we just set up a trap or something?”

“A trap?” Jin Zixuan said. “What do you mean?”

Nie Huaisang shrugged and looked at Lan Wangji. “Do you know Chord Assassination?”

Lan Wangji blinked, surprised, but nodded.

“Okay, so, here’s the idea…”

It was an extremely stupid idea, based on using the chords as part of a pulley, some Wen sect soldiers and swords used as counterbalance weights, but as a distraction it worked pretty beautifully right up until the last moment when Jiang Cheng was helping Lan Wangji – whose leg was broken – swim through the water and the Xuanwu abruptly noticed that they were all going to leave and dashed after them, getting its head stuck in the exit hole they were using.

“Should we behead it or something?” Jin Zixuan asked, staring at the thrashing beast. “It can’t be allowed to hurt others.”

“Using what?” Mianmian asked, holding up a Wen sword in disdain. “These pieces of – well. These swords? It wouldn’t work.”

“I can still do Chord Assassination,” Lan Wangji said, and with all of them heaving together they were able to hold the string down tight enough to eventually cut the thing’s head off at the neck.

Nie Huaisang even used the opportunity to go pick out some sort of sword that was sticking out of the creature’s side, which he’d declared to be extremely ‘aesthetic’ if you looked at it from a certain perspective.

By that point, they were all exhausted, but no one wanted to stay a second longer in Qishan than they had to – especially since one of the small sect cultivators who’d wandered further away had seen Wens incoming – so Jiang Cheng put Lan Wangji, now totally exhausted, on his back and they all ran away.

“Come visit me in Qinghe sometime!” Nie Huaisang shouted, waving as the Nie sect disciples split off in a different direction. “I promised you some high-quality proper affection hugs from my da-ge, Jiang Cheng! Just you wait, you’ll see how good they are!”

(They are every bit as good as promised.)

#mdzs #jiang cheng #nie huaisang #mian mian #jin zixuan #lan wangji #my fic #my fics #jikazu-sama